South of the Border
by Emo Owl
Summary: Life's not always smooth, so when Anna Beck gets assigned to retraining after being a little overzealous at her job as an FBI agent, she's not worried. She can even overcome being placed with the least respected field agent in LA. But things are so much more complicated than she ever thought, and once she meets the family of Dominic Toretto, she finds herself with choices to make.
1. I Did Something Bad

They say I did something bad

But why's it feel so good?

Most fun I ever had

And I'd do it over and over and over again if I could

I Did Something Bad, Taylor Swift

Z

My heart leapt into my throat as I slammed the gas pedal down and wrenched the wheel around a tight right turn. The back end of the Charger slung out around the turn on the slick, wet street, and I lost some momentum as the wheel spun, but I quickly straightened out and got it back. The tuned up Honda cut down a side alley, slamming through a chainlink fence and narrowly avoiding a dumpster.

The sirens behind me were nothing but a distant whine, but the radio traffic was a nonstop cacophony of voices in my head. I felt myself reaching a hand towards the radio to call out my location so I could back off the chase, but instead, I found my hand going back to the wheel, making the same turn as the Honda, scraping the driver's side door on the dumpster and sending the mirror flying to the pavement.

Cursing to myself, I slammed my foot down harder. I was watching the speedometer needle shoot up, hoping it would be enough. I snatched my radio and held it up to my mouth, but then I hesitated.

I should call off the chase. Hell, I should have called the chase long before I took the turn through the fence, but I didn't want to.

The Honda took yet another left, and I knew they were about to attempt to make a break for the freeway. If I was going to stop them, it had to be now.

"We went through a fence turning north off Freemont." I barked into the radio. "We're driving through the industrial complex. I think he's going to try to lose me and then cut back up the exit onto-um," I blanked on the exit number and the freeway number.

"I've got it." Someone else responded before they rattled off the location. The sound of the sirens started to swell as more cars got on the right track.

"Right, second left, and then one more left." I gave my vague directions and dropped the radio. It was rookie stuff but I was too hyped up to care. The Honda driver was still in sight, and they were getting sloppier with every turn. Based on the sheer amount of heroine I had just caught them with, I would not be surprised if they were high.

"-BECK! That is a damn order!" It took me a minute to realize it my superior officer was screaming my name into the radio.

There was a right and wrong thing to do here. The right thing was to listen, back off, and then beg for forgiveness. The wrong thing was to keep going. We should fall back and regroup. I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"The radio cut out. Do I have a chopper?" I lied, but I didn't care. I'd deal with the fallout later.

My heart was pounding, the blood rushing in my ears, I felt like I couldn't breathe, and it was amazing.

Only a few seconds had passed, but it felt like time was slowing down. Stasiak had given up on me calling the chase, and with the helicopter fixing the fishtailing Honda in a spotlight, I suddenly had back up in my rearview. Everyone had calmed down and I could focus on driving.

I felt like a predator stalking my prey as we worked to block in the Honda in between the bleak factories. It took a while, but I eventually saw my chance. So much adrenaline shot through me that I felt giddy as I pit maneuvered the car into a shipping container.

We descended on them like a wave. Soon, it was all over and I had my biggest bust to date.

One of the veteran guys asked me if I was alright because I was shaking. Truth was, I'd never felt better.

Z

You have two choices in life: accept your fate or fight it.

When you're unfailingly analytical and type A it's normally easy to make the decision; you weigh the pros and cons and you go with the best option. It made me a good cop, pushed me all the way up the ranks until I was in my dream job. A dream job that I was about to lose because I pulled a rookie move and didn't call off the chase when I was supposed to.

It could be argued that it wasn't completely my fault; I had been presenting my case that three international drug smugglers were congregating in an old warehouse for a week. None of the guys in the old boys club took me seriously. They finally sent me and a few other agents to check it out.

The drug smugglers were bent over multiple bricks of heroin when we kicked the door in and they scattered like rats. Two were grabbed almost instantly by agents, but the third made it to the car. With the others distracted by the two thugs in handcuffs, I bolted outside for a car.

Thankfully, it had been steadily raining and it was late; there was no one in our path as we tore through the backstreets of dilapidated warehouses. Unfortunately, I wasn't sure that Penning was going to see that as an upside. I had heard through the grapevine that he was absolutely raging about the newbie with a God complex who couldn't take a damn order.

The stack of files slammed on my desk with a sick, echoing thud that brought the chatter in the room down to a deafening silence. The jerk of my pen sent a streak across the report I was trying to fill out. The tense seconds ticked by as I waited for something to happen.

"Beck." He finally hissed.

"Stasiak,-" He cut me by slamming a hand on the desk with a loud snap. I frowned at the thought of how much that must of physically stung him, but the glance at his red face and pulsating temple veins told me he didn't care.

"The director's office. Now, Beck." He growled as he whipped around and stalked off to Penning's office. With a tired sigh, I grabbed the files and followed behind him.

I tried to figure out how to play this as I trailed a few feet behind him. There were still some guys here at their desks scattered around the room even though it was late, and all of them were looking up from their paperwork at me, not even trying to hide the fact that they were eager to hear the new girl get reamed. Unwilling to let them see me upset or weak, I stuck my chin out at a haughty angle.

"I have had it with you, Beck." He hissed as he reached the door and yanked it open. He jerked his hand forwards in an 'after you' motion and I strolled through as nonchalantly as possible, setting the file stack neatly on Penning's desk with a polite nod to the bossman.

"I want to know why you went in with no backup!" He roared the second I shut the door. Penning was sitting at the desk watching Stasiak scream at me. I knew when Stasiak was done, Penning would start in.

A quick glance at the window in his door showed everyone standing up to listen. I felt myself get hot. Stasiak followed my gaze and thankfully shut the blinds as he continued yelling about how this was not what he taught me. When he was finally done, it became my turn.

"I had back up! They're just the slowest freaking drivers I've ever seen! If you had listened to my intel we would have had more than just the four of us! I asked you for a team and you told me to handle it, so I did. I handled it and I caught the drug dealers and I got us intel on the cartel. Which, surely you'll remember is something you've been begging for for three months!" The venom crept into my voice as I started opening my files and flipping them open to the pages of neatly typed intel that clearly said the drug dealers would be where we found them.

We were squared off, twin bowed up stances with red faces and hard glares. I waited for his rebuttal, but it never came. I forced myself to take a steadying, calming breath before I spoke again.

"I'm not going to let you take this from me." I focused my attention on Penning. "I have good instincts, and my intel was good."

Penning ran a hand through his greying brown hair and looked at me with absolute exhaustion. He actually looked like an agent unlike short Stasiak and his square babyface. Penning had a presence with his height and wide shoulders and pristine suit. Today though, He was slumped down into his desk chair.

"Anna cut the shit." He snapped as he glared me down.

My heart sank as I waited for him to take my badge and gun. That was the only thing that could come next here.

"You could've gotten yourself and everyone else killed! What were you thinking? You need retraining if you think that's how to run-" Stasiak chimed in but I completely ignored his words and instead focused on the fact that he was walking over and invading my space. He was leaning over me in a way that made me cringe, especially as much as he spit when he talked. "You're like O'Conner made over!"

"Stasiak and I seem to have come to the same conclusion." Penning wave his hand in aggravation to shut Stasiak up. To my relief, he finally did.

"What conclusion is that sir?" I forced out slowly.

"You need retraining." I sucked in a quick breath as I imagined being shipped back as far as the police academy for this. Penning's eyes narrowed as he considered his next thought. "You need retraining and you need someone that can handle you because clearly, Stasiak can't."

He blustered up a protest next to me but was ignored.

"Who do you suggest?" I stepped away from him, trying to regain some control.

Penning chuckled and I didn't like it.

"Sit down, Beck."

Penning chuckled and I didn't like it.

"Sit down, Beck."

I settled into the plastic, false leather chair in front of Penning and Stasiak with as much haughty dignity as I could muster. I decided I needed to handle this by keeping my mouth shut, but that didn't mean I couldn't let them see how angry I was at them.

"You are not well-liked. You're standoffish and arrogant and I'm pretty sure you would steamroll over Mother Teresa and her orphans if it would mean you could close a case." Penning started slowly.

I opened my mouth to argue, but Stasiak motioned for me to stop. I did, even though I didn't like it. It was absolutely for the best that I kept my mouth shut right now anyway; running my mouth would only dig my hole deeper.

"You are so controlled about things, always having a plan for fucking everything, but when it comes down to crunch time, you're a loose cannon that just reacts. Like tonight. You stole an LAPD Charger and wrecked it. They were on standby out of courtesy, Beck. How often do you think they'll extend that to us anymore after this?" Penning sighed tiredly. "You should be fired after tonight and we all know it."

My face was burning red with shame and anger. I took a big deep breath as I tried to collect my thoughts for my reply. My arrest record in Portland was amazing. I had the fewest unsolved homicides. I came with high recommendations from my commanding officers. I had a life-saving medal for pulling someone out of a burning car when I was on patrol.

"You've done nothing but argue with me." Stasiak started after he gave Penning's words a chance to land. "I"m trying to help you. Do you even understand that? I want you to succeed and do well here."

I was frustrated by the fact that he sounded kind. Normally he was gruff and all big talk, but today he didn't sound like that at all. I took a deep breath to reply, but Penning waved his hand to silence me. Knowing it was not time for me to talk, I grudgingly kept silent.

"Brian O'Conner is coming out of a deep cover assignment tomorrow. Not only does he have my full trust-" Penning paused way longer than he should have and Stasiak blew air out of his nose in annoyance. "I think he could teach you how to reign yourself in before you get yourself and everyone else killed."

"With all due respect-" I broke in before he could keep going.

"It's an undercover assignment in addition to a retraining assignment." Stasiak thumped his hand on the stack of files he had dropped on the desk.

"Excuse me?" I felt like the needle had been pulled off of the record in my brain. I had been expecting the retraining, demotion, or firing, but not this.

"Dominic Toretto just struck again in Venezuela, hijacking trucks. We aren't sure what's in them, but they've quoted the shipments as being worth millions." Stasiak explained.

"What does that have to do with me? I don't understand." I turned to Penning who was starting to look bored with this whole conversation.

"There's concern that O'Conner ran across intel about Toretto during his recent undercover assignment and didn't share it." His lips twitched. "I think it's bullshit, but the higher ups want to make sure O'Conner is still on the straight and narrow."

"So you want me to spy on him?" I was intrigued. Some of the shame and indignation of being dragged in this office for this conversation was falling away and being replaced with genuine excitement.

"I think we're going to find that there's nothing going on." Penning said quickly. "And don't forget, this is still punishment. You've got to get yourself under control."

"I can do this," I assured him without missing a beat.

"This is such a bad idea." Stasiak cut in as he plucked the thickest file out of the stack and dropped it into my lap. I fingered the edges of the papers inside as I fixed Stasiak in a steady glare.

"Why? Worried I'll-"

"Get killed? Yeah. I am." Stasiak turned on his heel and stomped out the open door.

"He'll get over. Go home, Anna. Dismissed." Penning impatiently waved me.

Z

The sun was just about up by the time I made it to my shoebox studio apartment. The traffic was already choking the life out of me as I tried to speed back as quickly as I could. It kept getting harder and harder to resist the temptation to pull over and pour over the file that was sitting in my passenger seat.

Resist it I did, and now that was sitting in my armchair, I was having to convince myself to open it. It was thick, and I was so exhausted I couldn't stand it. I wasn't sure I could stop reading it if I started.

Brian O'Conner: The man, the myth, the legend, the new field training officer.

I'd never be a serious agent with O'Conner training me. He'd never lived down his mistakes in LA that led to one of the FBI's most wanted skipping free across South America. I didn't want my name anywhere near his and to hear Penning say we were the same person bothered me to no end. He knew that would, of course. I was pretty sure he had chosen O'Conner as a distraction to keep me from getting up under his feet again and as a weight to hold me back until I could grow up a little.

I flipped it open with a sigh because I knew if I didn't, I'd never get any rest.

I don't know what I was expecting on that first page, but it wasn't a surfer boy with the last name Spilner.


	2. Fall in Line

Chapter 2: Fall In Line

But I got a mind to show my strength

And I got a right to speak my mind

And I'm gonna pay for this

They're gonna burn me at the stake

But I got a fire in my veins

I wasn't made to fall in line

Fall in Line, Christina Aguilera

Z

Brian Jacob O'Conner.

Turns out his story did not start in the LAPD; it started in juvie. He was arrested when he was sixteen for stealing cars and reckless driving. From there he joined the LAPD directly out of high school, made a name for himself in car chases, and caught the attention of the higher-ups for his bulldog-like determination, criminal history, and driving skills.

On paper, he seemed like the perfect person to put undercover by the FBI to investigate Toretto, if you ignore the subtext of insubordination written throughout his case notes. O'Conner didn't seem like he liked being told what to do. He also seemed convinced that Dominic Toretto was not what the FBI thought he was.

In the black and white context of the files, Dominic Toretto was a thug. Countless traffic charges and street racing run-ins with the law littered his backstory, followed by five years of hard time which he did for beating a man almost to death with a wrench. He had come out of prison and was barely scraping by with the grocery run by his sister Mia and the mechanic's shop he ran with his girlfriend Letty and street racing buddies. Of course, he was the one hijacking trucks; he had to have been desperate for cash.

It was O'Conner's most famous case, mostly because he ended up going native. The other reason was who he let go after Toretto started becoming a problem down South. He had started small, but his jobs were getting bigger and the cars were getting faster. Interpol and the local cops just couldn't keep up anymore. I dug through everything I could find on Toretto, but there was nothing from O'Conner in the notes on why he handed Toretto the keys. If he hadn't there would be one less menace terrorizing organized society.

The next case was O'Conner's second most famous one: Carter Verone.

It was the deep-cover case that restored his career as a lawman. O'Conner was a bold choice for that one, especially since they were sending him in as a street racer with his best friend from juvie. The beautiful Agent Fuentes whose face was plastered all over pictures in the file was probably his motivation for keeping to the straight and narrow on that one.

The rest of his career was pretty standard. They started him out slow, with tiny cases and gradually worked him up to larger ones. His solve rate was okay, but aside from one or two bigger busts, I didn't see anything special, but then again I could clearly tell parts of his file were missing, especially some of the reports on Toretto. As angry as Stasiak was, I knew it might take him a little while, but I'd probably get filled in on the office gossip and any other O'Conner information that wasn't currently buried in the file sitting in my hands. He was just an okay mentor but he was an amazing source of information on coworkers.

With a snap, I slammed it shut. I was meeting him tomorrow and I had a disciplinary meeting, I needed to sleep.

Z

I was sweating through my shirt under my blazer as I sat on a bench outside the FBI office eating my salad. It was a scorching hot day with no shade, but I couldn't take another second in the office. It was unbearable after the news had spread about my forced day off yesterday. So many of those guys were rooting for me to fail that it made me take a second to rethink how I approached my last case and also them in general. It seemed like no one ever expected me to succeed and once I did, I ruffled the feathers of the guys that had worked the case and come up with nothing. In hindsight, I could also see how my attitude about things could come off as hard to handle.

I had also branded myself as a narcissist that wouldn't take orders when I raided the warehouse with four agents and then refused to drop the chase, which admittedly put a lot of people in danger. I think they would have been a lot warmer to me if I had botched my first case like they thought I was going to. Me being right put them into a tailspin.

I was almost done picking all of the meat out of my lunch when a man caught my attention. In the middle of the sea of black and grey suits coming in and out of the building, I caught a flash of royal blue. Without moving off of my bench to get a better vantage point, all I could see around the scraggly baby trees in the flower beds was the bright blue shirt and a head of short-cropped blonde hair. He wasn't being escorted, so he wasn't a perp, but agents didn't wear street clothes.

He turned the corner on the sidewalk, flipping through a file. I was about to be able to see his face when the phone alarm signaling the end of my lunch break went off. By the time I reached down, turned it off, and looked up, the stranger was walking straight for me.

Brian O'Conner.

The first thing I noticed about him was his blinding, baby blue eyes. The second thing I noticed was that he couldn't be bothered with wearing a suit to work. His blue shirt was clinging tight to his toned arms and chest. The fabric not stretched tight were so wrinkled it looked like he had grabbed it out of his floor. Clearly he was a bachelor because any girlfriend would tell him his shirt was too small. His baggy jeans and Converse completed his surfer guy look.

Could he even be called a surfer guy anymore? I mused to myself. He had the tan still and the casual dress from his Brian Spilner days, but his blonde mop of hair had been buzzed into a regulation cut. Overall, he looked older and a lot more serious.

"Hey." He greeted with a soft, white smile as he got closer to me. It didn't reach his eyes. "Are you Anna?"

He went straight to first names, which was interesting. I'd been called Beck so much that I didn't respond to Anna anymore.

"Yes, I am." I gave him a tight-lipped smile as I glanced at the file in his hand.

Of course, he knew it was me; it was all written in the pages Penning had handed him when he told him about the whole field training situation we'd been put in.

There was a quick beat before he answered, and I knew he was sizing me up. We were quite the contrast today; I was hoping to give myself a confidence boost coming back in to work by wearing my best pencil skirt suit and nicest heels. I twisted my caramel brown hair into a braided bun and made sure my makeup was light but precise. He looked like he had just woken up and strolled in.

"I'm Brian. I'm your field training officer." He offered his hand and I shook it.

"Anna Beck. Nice to meet you," I answered with forced politeness. I saw Meyer and Finley crane their necks to see what was happening over Brian's right shoulder. I shifted as I felt a wave of shame.

Brian seemed to sense it, and he glanced over at the two men, who quickly went back to their own conversation. Brian turned back with an awkward shrug.

"Yeah, you'll get used to it. They've moved your review up. They're expecting us now."

"Now?" I dropped the fake smile as I threw my salad container at the trash can and started frantically buttoning my blazer.

I was supposed to have two hours before I went in. I was going to take that time to freshen up and go over my responses, come up with a game plan. That was all shot to hell. O'Conner motioned for me to follow as he started to walk.

"Hey, it's better to get it over with. Just take a deep breath; every agent does something in their career that gets them called in. They wouldn't have called me in if they were firing you." O'Conner was trying to be soothing, but it wasn't helping. Clearly, I knew I wasn't being fired, but they were about to rip everything about me to shreds in front of my face and I wasn't ready to hear it. Stasiak was still mad at me for ignoring everything he'd ever taught me, but he was at least nice enough to warn me about it. He had told me it was going to be bad and I was going to walk away unhappy.

"I'm certainly not that kind of agent, O'Conner." He frowned at my words and even in my panic I felt a little bit of shame. "Sorry. You're trying to help."

He didn't say anything as he led the way to Penning's office through the bland tile lobby. The air conditioning hit me like a bucket of ice water and I felt the goosebumps pop up on my arms after sweating in the heat. I was straight up panicking.

Next thing I knew, O'Conner was opening the door to the office and motioning for me to go in before him.

Being inside and seeing the three men waiting for me actually made me calm down. I still felt like I was balancing on the edge of a knife, but I was getting to the point where I could think.

You make your choice and you stick with it. I had two main ways to play this: contrition or confident defense of my actions. Contrition was the best answer, keep my head down and let this blow over.

Penning motioned for me to sit on the couch in the back of his office. The two chairs that were normally facing his desk had been turned around to face the couch and were filled with Stasiak and Finley, the drug task force agent. From what I'd heard, he had made a lot of headway in his cartel case after my bust because my three guys were singing like canaries.

"Agent Beck." Penning started the meeting.

They picked apart every piece of the bust, rolling back surveillance camera footage. I was not technically in command of the three men with me breaking into the warehouse; that was technically Finley's man, Agent Holcomb. He was a massively tall beast of a man that had looked down his nose at me from the beginning. He hadn't taken the raid seriously and sent me with an aging agent that was getting a little wide around the middle from his time spent with his feet propped up on his desk.

We found an open door on the side and ducked in while Holcomb and his partner went around through another door. When we signaled that there were actually men in the warehouse, everyone was suddenly taking things very seriously. The first two guys were grabbed quickly, while I went after the third who was by far the smallest. His gun was sitting on the table, and not on his person when I went running for him with my gun drawn.

I was clearly expecting a fight, and him turning on his heel and fleeing towards the open door caught me off guard for a beat, but then I sprinted after him. Holcomb clearly yelled something to me on the tape, but I hadn't heard him in real life. I distinctly remember calling out the chase into my radio, and apparently it was at about the same time.

The tape was paused as the three men started picking apart everything that could have been done better, especially not respecting that order.

I nodded meekly and explained that I did not hear the order at the time. Finley scoffed and restarted the tape. No one else reacted to my statement. I risked a glance at O'Conner when the tape got to me pushing the backup LAPD officer out of the way and taking his Charger before I started the car chase. A smile pulled at his lips.

"I'm guessing you can see why I think she might benefit from you training her? I'm pretty sure you've pulled this same stunt." Penning asked him when he saw the same face.

"Yeah, I think I can work with this." His smile got bigger and Stasiak snorted.

"Even you call out your location and don't put dozens of other agents in danger."

"It looks to me like if you had more officers for backup then this never would have happened. That one guy LAPD sent to be on standby and you sitting in a van listening in was not enough."

"No one actually expected her intel to pan out. She was moved into being an agent way too early and that's why we're having to have this meeting. It's a miracle she didn't get herself killed or lead our guys directly into an ambush, especially since this cartel is famous for taking out cops." Finley finished as he paused the tape and waved my resume around. "I mean, If you hadn't been the director's little darling in Portland you never would have been promoted. If it weren't for him, your resume would be in the shredder somewhere."

My eyebrows shot up to my hairline as my spine went ramrod straight. The anger was rising so fast in my chest I felt tears prick at my eyes before I push them down.

"Excuse me?" I snapped.

"Hey man, she's clearly proved that she can research and build a case. Her instincts were dead on in everything." O'Conner jumped to my defense from the couch next to me.

"Like your's with Toretto, O'Conner?" Finley prodded.

"I don't give a damn about the Toretto case at the moment, Finley. We're looking at the Surenos drug bust, which I will remind you, I made. Penning, you know you gave it to me because no one else would touch it."

Penning's eyebrows shot up. Stasiak attempted to cut in, but I raised my voice to drown him out.

"I made mistakes, but I made the best of limited resources and I brought down three midlevel drug mules that are flipping on their bosses. If you want to punish me for that, do it, I was wrong to not call the chase off when my backup was that for behind me, but I won't let you say that I got here because I called in favors. I'm smart and resourceful and I'm a quick learner who will make sure this never happens again, and if you didn't think that, you would have fired me that night."

"You're not the one that called in favors," Finley stated in such a matter of fact tone that I felt a wave of nausea rise in my throat as I realized what he was trying to say.

"You can also add insubordinate to your list of qualities." Penning snapped.

I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. I thought bitterly. Rule number one: stick to your guns. My guns, in this case, should have been groveling.

"Whether you like it or not, it wasn't your merit that got you here, it was a phone call between the LA director and your Portland police chief who apparently go way back." Finley pointed out,

I hadn't known that. The knife twisted in my gut and I felt a tear slip. I felt like everything had been sucked away from me.

"Yeah, well maybe he saw something you don't." Brian cut in.

"What, tits?" Finley huffed.

"Dismissed." Penning waved his hand. "Thank you for coming in on your day off, O'Conner."

Z

Brian kept his weight on his toes. He looked like he could bolt at any second. He never seemed to be still, always picking at his sleeve, rubbing his arms, touching on his drink in him. He reminded me of a hyper child trying to be good, always restless, always ready to move. If someone threw a ball for him, I was betting he would take off after it.

Maybe that made him more golden retriever than small child. It would be fitting with the blonde hair and the good-natured vibe he was throwing off.

It was driving me crazy. Analyzing him was the only distraction I had from that gut-punch of a revelation and I couldn't stop picturing him as an actual golden retriever.

He had whisked me out of the office and dragged me to a greasy, off the beaten path burger place. I'd cried for at least the first half of the car ride before I could get myself under control. He'd handed me a Wendy's napkin out of his glove box and offered a few comforting words that I had ignored. I'm pretty sure the only comment I had made was on his love of fast food.

"You thought things were going to be different?" He asked as he wadded up his empty burger wrapper and set it on the table.

"Yeah. I didn't know I was a pity hire; I thought I had made it to the big times." I answered bitterly as I sipped my Coke. Brian shrugged as he ate a few french fries.

"You're young to be where you are, but your solve rates are from Portland are amazing. You were a good detective."

"All I wanted was to be FBI. Like that's always been the only goal. The chief and I talked about it a lot, and I asked for recommendation letters, but I never thought he would twist arms like this."

O'Conner mulled it over as he rolled the fry in his hand. He finally fixed me with those baby blues and I felt like he was staring straight into my soul.

"How am I ever going to get out from under that phone call?" I pressed.

Part of me wanted him to open up about his past experiences with bad cases. He looked like he had a thousand ghosts running through his mind as he fixed me in that stare. When he looked down and sighed, I just knew he was about to tell me what happened with Toretto.

Instead, he told me about how catty the guys at the office could be. I tried to keep the disappointment off my face as he told me about other agents' mistakes and how they were treated. The whole department sounded like a toxic bloodbath and I found myself regretting moving away from Portland.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you want respect, you have to earn it." He finished without revealing a single personal thing about himself.

"How?" I snapped, kind of annoyed that I didn't learn anything new about Toretto or O'Conner himself. He shrugged.

"We close the next case." He shoved a thin file that he had tossed to the side the second we sat down across the table to me.

With renewed determination, I flipped it open.


	3. Bad Day

Chapter 3: Bad Day

**Stand in the line just to hit a new low**

**You're faking a smile with the coffee to go**

**You tell me your life's been way off line**

**You're falling to pieces every time**

**And I don't need no carrying on**

**Daniel Powter, Bad Day**

Z

When my alarm went off the next day, I almost hit snooze and rolled back over. Unfortunately, I couldn't hide from life.

This felt like a nightmare.

I drug myself out of bed to the coffee maker. The smell of dark brew in my dim apartment lifted my soul a little bit, but the sight of the thick file I had yet to return to Penning sitting on my kitchen island drug it right back down. In a moment of spite, I shoved it into the kitchen chair before I picked up my coffee and mosied over to my armchair for the ten minutes of internet goofing I allowed myself to start the day with.

I clicked around on social media, liking my way through my Portland best friend's hiking pictures. The loneliness and homesickness set in as I saw her smiling in the beautiful green forests. The smog, traffic, and grey, towering buildings of LA were so far away from where she was standing and I was so jealous I couldn't be there. I kept scrolling down until I landed on a picture that made me suck in a breath.

My ex-fiance was smiling broadly with his arm around a pretty blonde in a lab coat and scrubs.

Not wanting to see more, I slammed my laptop closed.

Stasiak had been suggesting I go back to Portland from the beginning, and I was almost regretting not doing it.

Almost.

FBI was my dream and I wasn't going to let them tear that away from me. I had given up my friends, my fiance, my amazing coworkers, and my home to come here. I was not letting that sacrifice be for nothing.

Sure, there were going to be obstacles; I knew that from the beginning. Right now the biggest ones were that phone call and O'Conner, but they could both be surmounted. O'Conner was right; if I wanted their respected, I had to earn it. That meant finishing the tiny cases they were handing me. Once I did that, they'd pull me away from O'Conner and let me work alone. If I was lucky, I could transfer to a field office in DC or New York, far away from this hell hole that was LA and the black spot that was O'Conner. No one would know him there, no one would lump me with him, and I could get a fresh start where people only looked at me for me.

In the meantime, I would just keep my head down and work.

Maybe I could also find some friends. I didn't have those here because all I had done was work, but in a city this size, there was some group somewhere I had something in common with. I might even find someone to date.

I winced as I thought of Marcus and his pretty fellow doctor. I still didn't want him, and I wasn't sad he had moved on, I was just feeling low as hell and lonely.

My phone vibrated and I flipped it over to see O'Conner's name pop up above the text. With a sneer, I opened the message.

Meet at the office at 9. Remember to focus on what you can change.

I rolled my eyes at the dad message. He'd been annoyingly kind and I was having a hard time not telling him what I thought about his pity.

He was right about one thing though; what I couldn't change wasn't worth getting myself worked up about. With a sigh, I opened my laptop again.

I could do this; face the day, work my case, find a way to meet people. I hadn't let anything stop me before and I was not about to start.

Z

The FBI field office was still quiet and empty when I got there, way before the traffic got terrible and way before my nine o'clock meeting. I crossed the empty bullpen of desks, tossing my blazer and files on top of my desk on the way past. I headed straight for the gym in the basement.

I started slow, working my way up on the treadmill until my lungs burned and my heart pounded. My mind kept running back to the pure adrenaline I felt behind the wheel of the Charger. My runner friends used to describe a high from running, but I'd never felt anything like being behind the wheel of that Charger. I reran every detail through my head, savoring the memory, fantasizing about ways I could have gone faster or cut him off sooner. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I almost didn't notice Stasiak standing next to my treadmill.

His thin lips had a smug twist to them as he started speaking. Already done with today before seven AM, I left my headphones in and ignored him. That worked until he pressed the emergency stop button.

"What the ever-loving fuck, Stasiak?" I shrieked as almost fell face-first on the control panel. I knocked my iPod to the floor and my earbuds were painfully yanked from my ears. He shrugged, no remorse showing on his face. The three guys in the corner holding weight stopped to stare.

"Did O'Conner tell you about Mia?" He asked with no preamble.

"No." I snapped as I turned my music back on and pushed the resume button. He made a noise deep in his throat as he watched me jog for a second. I quickly realized my workout was ruined and turned the treadmill back off with a glare.

"You need to stay away from him if you want to make something of yourself. Penning loves him, but he's about the only one. He's got a terrible track record with women." Anger rippled through me as I cleaned my machine and started making my way to the women's locker room. I was too angry to even be curious.

It didn't matter anyway. Everyone opened up eventually and O'Conner would be no different.

"Penning's not going to love you and your reputation with women when I tell him you were watching me jog," I called loudly over my shoulder. The guys in the corner let out a laugh as I flipped off Stasiak.

Z

The bullpen was loud and buzzing when I came up from the gym to start work. Three agents were struggling to drag in a perp for questioning on one side of the room, and on the other, an agent was trying to pull a crying woman into a private room. My heart broke for the grieving woman; homicide had forced me to have hundreds of conversations like that and it had never gotten easier.

"Rough start, Beck?" Santiago quipped with a smirk as he looked up from his computer at me.

I sarcastically mimed laughing at him, careful not to let anyone else see as I took a seat next to him.

My wet hair was twisted in a bun on the back of my head because my hairdryer died and my shirt had lost a button right in the middle. I'd also dropped my eyeliner on the floor and without it, I looked several years younger than I already did. All that was left was for my heel to break.

"Not looking cute for the new training officer?" Santiago prodded as he made a note on the file in front of him.

"Did you lose all of your social skills when they gave you the desk by a girl or did you just never have any?" I pressed the power button on my computer and leaned back in my chair, fixing him in an unbreaking stare. He chuckled uncomfortably as he tried to go back to his file.

When the perp kicked over a chair I lost my concentration and looked away. Santiago practically scurried over to the printer to get away from me. I watched him move awkwardly for a second before deciding I should actually get to work.

The noise in the room dropped to a workable level as the agents regained control of the clearly drugged-up man and someone took the sobbing woman out to a more comfortable place to talk. I retrieved my legal pad from my drawer and started nosing through the new case Stasiak put on my desk. True to his word, it was entry-level.

There was a car theft ring spanning from Vegas all the way to LA. The list of cars was long and the hits were clean; most of them taking place on car lots well after hours. They were quick, smash and grab jobs; break into the car lot through a window, spray paint the cameras, steal the keys, cut the fence, drive off with the cars. They'd been working their way West towards LA and there was concern that LA was the location of the chop shop.

I counted twenty-four cars in three states on the list. Once I got my computer booted up, I started pulling up red light camera records. Several of the towns didn't have red-light cameras plus all of the cars had dealer tags, and with some of the smaller agencies, I wasn't able to search for the dealership name instead of a tag number. Tracking them was slow going.

I was about three minutes away from my meeting with O'Conner when I got a hit on an LA camera. It was on the fourth car down the list, stolen in Orange County so I wasn't sure it technically counted as a win; it didn't prove that the rest of them were being run through LA. I was about to search for the next car on the list when I felt a presence at my shoulder.

"I just put some coffee on." Santiago offered.

"I'm good, man. Thank you though." O'Conner sounded contemplative as he watched me fast forward through pictures on the camera. I knew about how long it would take the car to reach the intersection from Google Maps, but that didn't exactly factor in car thief driving speeds. I also didn't know if they had caught a green light and avoided the camera.

"It's good thinking. We can get a warrant for the footage." O'Conner reached over me to pick up the list of cars. I couldn't help but notice when his arm came over my shoulder that this time he had on a suit.

"I didn't have any other hits on the first three, but I don't have access to all of the cameras in other states. I'll have to submit a request." I slid him the mouse and let him click through pictures.

"Go ahead and start that, but start with cameras around this area." He backed up the zoom on the map to an area of downtown LA. "We can head over there tonight and check things out, but I'm guessing this is where our chop shop is."

"We don't know it's a chop shop yet." I reminded. "If they take this road here-" I pointed out my route, with the mouse cursor. "Then they could head towards the docks and put those cars straight on a shipping container.

"The only way to find out is to look." He sounded cheerful and in good spirits and I found myself wanting to hit him.

Z

It was hot. So very, unbearably hot. O'Conner wouldn't let me crank the car to get the air conditioner. Fitting, because I was in hell.

O'Conner's driving made me carsick, so he ended up making me drive through LA traffic at rush hour, all the while making good-natured, helpful comments. My nerves were shot from staring at the computer for eight hours straight with no lunch, and that was about the last straw for my sanity.

He was dragging me here to meet a former car thief he had brought in a few times. At first, I thought he was O'Conner's CI, but it turned out we were just here hoping he walked by so we could drag him into the back of the car and question him. That kind of off the cuff policing was absolutely not my style.

O'Conner seemed to be reveling in it. His bright baby blues were rapidly scanning the street and had been for the past half hour. Since we'd been that long without a sighting, he was starting to relax a little and settle into his seat. It hadn't dampened his spirits; in fact, he seemed content sitting there, staring at the dark street.

"So how are you liking LA?" O'Conner broke the silence.

"I hate it," I answered honestly. "So, so much."

"Yeah, terrible traffic, the air quality sucks, the crime rate isn't great, but at least it's home." He flashed me a bright smile and I rolled my eyes.

"Do you always do that?" My words came out grumpy and harsh.

"Do what?"

"Deflect. Hide behind that smile and impersonal statements." His smile slid off his face. "We've spent how many hours together, and the most personal thing you've said to me is LA 'is home'. The only thing anyone at the office has to say about you is a reference to your cases, which means you don't say anything to them either."

He brought an arm up and scratched the back of his head and the car quickly descended back into silence, which was my goal. I didn't do small talk and I wasn't about to start, especially with Brian O'Conner.

He shifted awkwardly and I almost felt guilty. I was looking over at him to apologize when I saw him stiffen. Jumping to alert, I got ready to get out of the car. O'Conner moved first, smoothly opening his door, and stepping out into the street light.

"Eddy."

His contact was a Hispanic male, late twenties, early thirties, five-foot-eight inches, medium build, close-cropped dark hair. He was wearing a white tank top with baggy medium wash jeans and black sneakers. His right tattoo sleeve was finished in black and white and he had a left forearm tattoo. But really, the important detail of our contact was the fact that the second he saw O'Conner, he was running.

"Shit!" We both swore pretty much simultaneously.

O'Conner took off, while I started the car and tore off after them, going a few blocks before the guy cut into a dilapidated looking motel with O'Conner on his ass. I slammed the car in park and I called out for back up on the radio. Yanking my gun out of my holster, I took off into the building.

I didn't have to go far, because O'Conner had him on the floor with his knees on his back. I kept my gun pointed at him and tossed O'Conner my handcuffs so he didn't have to reach back and grab his own.

He turned to look at me with that bright smile again.

"This is how you know you have a good lead, Beck." His eyes sparkled as he pulled Eddy up to his knees.

"I ain't do nothing, man." He protested.

"Then why you running, man?" I asked. O'Conner's good mood was spreading.

I shifted my weight to holster my gun, and the heel of my pump snapped off, skittered across the lobby, and sent me straight to the floor.


	4. Drinking Alone

Chapter 4

We should be drinkin' alone together

Drownin' the pain is better

With somebody else who got problems

We ain't gonna solve 'em

The misery loves company

Drinking Alone, Carrie Underwood

Z

"Man, I can't believe you ran from me. You weren't in trouble, all I wanted was to ask you a few questions. If you had said you didn't want to talk to me, I couldn't have made you." Brian turned around in his seat to talk to Eddy like they were old friends being driven to the bar. I watched Eddy shift uncomfortably in the back in his handcuffs.

"Man, I can't believe they gave you a partner." Eddy jerked his chin to me. O'Conner shrugged amicably.

I pulled into the FBI lot and put the car in park. O'Conner kept chatting with Eddy as he got him in the car and walked him in. I waited until they were almost at the door, before I pulled off my shoes and started walking. The heels were tiny little kitten heels and I had worn them for years at homicide. I was cursing myself for remembering I was actually doing physical police work again and not just talking to someone across a desk and staring at crime scenes.

O'Conner and I had had the agreement that I was going to watch this first interview, so I made sure they were far enough ahead that Eddy wouldn't see me run in behind them barefoot and slipped into the building, heading in to watch the interview on the camera.

"Why do you even care about stolen cars?" Eddy was asking O'Conner as the latter took a seat in his chair.

He was the stillest I'd ever seen him, zeroed in on the target, focused and serious. Eddy had started looking uncomfortable in the car, but now he looked downright scared.

"The real answer is because they crossed state lines." O'Conner shrugged. "Give me a name, Eddy. All I want is a name or a location."

"I can't, O'Conner." Eddy was looking paler by the second.

We were tracking bigger players than they thought when they put us on this case. I started searching the database for homicides at car lots and expanded the search for a few years rather than just a few months. One of the results was from Portland.

I clicked open the file, and read the name of an unsolved homicide that had been driving me crazy since I was a rookie patrol officer. I'd worked the cold case as a homicide detective, but wasn't able to find anything. I quickly hit print so that O'Conner could see what I was seeing.

Now, it made sense. I couldn't find anything because they had no ties to Portland. The crime was not nearly as sophisticated and smooth as now, probably because it was at the beginning of their career. Some pieces fit though: the smashed window in someone's office, the damage to the lockbox that held the keys, there had even been the top to a can of spray paint found. The one thing that was different was the elderly janitor's cleaning schedule.

I stuffed the printed crime scene photos in a file for O'Conner and knocked on the door. I heard the movement on the other side stop and the sound of a chair pushing back on the hard tile floor. Without waiting for him to open it, I pushed in and handed him the file.

He looked at me quizzically, but I nodded vigorously, and stepped back outside, closing the door so he could get back to work.

On the monitor screens, I saw his eyebrows raise as he looked at the grainy photographs before he looked at the camera. He took a deep breath before dropping the pictures in front of Eddy. The man shivered at the sight. O'Conner gave him a long few minutes of silence to look through them.

"You've been very helpful, Eddy. Thank you for your time. I'll take you back and let you out at home." O'Conner straightened his tie and reached in his pocket for the handcuff key.

I frowned deeply. That was a valid interrogation technique, but there was no way it would work here.

"Alberto Guadarrama!" Eddy barked in a panic. "No, you can't do that! I gave you the name, so you can't do that!"

O'Conner clapped him on the shoulder as Eddy broke down, muttering about how they would kill him and his baby son if they knew that he talked. He whimpered that he wanted out of this and had for a long time, but was afraid they'd go for his kid if he tried to leave.

"I'm not going to let them do that to you. You're going to be safe, just tell me what we're keeping you safe from."

And Eddy did.

Z

It was well past midnight by the time Eddy was booked into jail on charges that weren't at all chop shop related and wouldn't stick at all. He was tucked in safe and would remain there until tomorrow night when we raided the chop shop that was expecting four more cars coming in from Arizona. After we moved on the chop shop, Eddy could take his kid and go upstate where they'd never look for him.

These were bad guys and we couldn't do anything that would lose them or let them hurt our witness. If we screwed up, they'd be back in the wind to hurt more people and Eddy and his kid would definitely be dead.

I was sitting at my desk staring into space when O'Conner finished the last of the report and powered down his computer. He stopped awkwardly when I didn't move to get up with him. His shifty, restless stance returned now that he wasn't chasing someone.

"I thought you left half an hour ago." He finally broke the silence. I sighed deeply.

"My car won't start. I tried to jump it off and it didn't work. It's been having problems, but the shop just keeps sending it back without fixing it." I told him slowly as I played with a pen.

"Someone coming to get you?"

"Nope. I'm trying to figure out if I want to call a taxi or sleep on Penning's couch." He snorted.

"Are those your only two options?" His voice had an edge I hadn't heard before.

"No. I'm just not sure I want to go home tonight," I answered honestly.

He motioned me out the door.

I was expecting him to lead me to my car, pop the hood, work some magic, and have me on my way home, but instead, he led me to his Taurus and opened the passenger door. I thought he was about to get in and hand me the keys, especially after I almost threw up on him earlier when he was driving, but he walked around to the driver's side and started readjusting his seat.

He asked me where he was dropping me off, and then the car was eerily silent. I found myself dying for some small talk to fill the spaces. The silence gave me time to think about how much of a jerk I'd been and it didn't feel great.

The streetlights were illuminating a much more serious O'Conner. I'd seen traces of the thoughts running through his head, but it was painfully obvious now he was buried in his own head. I knew I needed to reach out to him if I wanted to save this working relationship, but I didn't know how.

"That was quite a confession." I finally choked out some words three blocks from home. O'Conner made a noise in the back of his throat. "How did you know that would work?"

"Easy. You treat them like people, they respond to you." He answered as he fixed me in a stare that was almost icy for him.

"I deserved that," I muttered as my heart twisted in my chest. I didn't think I'd ever been so uncomfortable. I started to open my mouth to tell him about what a day I'd had and how I was upset about so many things, but then I realized how small and petty it all was. He'd been treated terribly since he came home to LA and that won out.

"This is you, right?" He asked as he pulled up at my deary apartment building.

It was a seven-floor number over a laundromat, a burger place, and a dry cleaner with peeling paint and garbage all over the street. I hated this place and the thought of going in to stare at the four empty walls was not appealing to me at the moment, especially since I knew I wasn't going to sleep.

"Yeah," I answered, but I made no move to get out. "Do you want to go to a bar?" I finally blurted.

Z

"But like, really, Stasiak is nothing but a little Napoleon troll," I told him emphatically as I choked down the rest of my vodka cran.

He laughed and took a swig of his own beer. He was really letting loose this time. His smile reached his eyes and they had a new twinkle in them that was growing with every drink. I had forgotten that I hadn't eaten since breakfast and was very gone quickly.

He took me to a dive bar not too far from my place. The bartender knew him by name and brought his beer out to him without having to ask. I never would have walked in here by myself, but not that I was here, I didn't mind it.

"Napoleon troll?" He questioned.

"He's short and square and he has that raging Napoleon complex. If troll dolls had short hair, it would be him!"

"He's not that bad." O'Conner signaled the bartender to refill my glass. I should have told him no, that I was done, but I didn't. This was the first time I had cut loose in a really really long time.

"He is though, O'Conner. He hates you so much." I blurted without realizing that I should probably not bring up office politics. He grimaced at my words and downed the rest of his beer.

"Call me Brian, Beck."

"Brian," I repeated slowly. It sounded so much more personal. "I think he hates you because he's jealous."

He shrugged and we descended into awkward silence again. Eager for it to stop, I chugged more of my drink.

"Sorry. Office gossip should be forbidden in bars, but I really don't have anything else to talk about."

"What's the best thing you've done since you've moved to LA?" He took the bait and changed the subject.

"Work." He picked at his bottom lip while he thought of how to reply. "What about you? I don't think I ever would have left Miami. If I'm going to be somewhere warm and crowded I'd at least want to be on Florida beaches."

He shrugged and looked around like he was trying to find a way to answer.

"You don't have to answer that. You don't know me; I'm just drunk and talking because I haven't been drunk and with anyone to talk to in a while. Do you know what it's like-" My phone buzzed and I flipped it over to see Marcus on my caller ID. I dropped my phone on the bar. "My ex-fiance is drunk calling to tell me he has a new girlfriend so I 'don't have to find out on social media' like I care."

"Fiance?" Brian grinned, looking much more comfortable now that the conversation had shifted to my woes instead of his.

"He wouldn't move with me. He was tired of my career being the focus which is bullshit because I put up with him and his work through med school, which was terrible, by the way. He was never home and if he was, he was talking about how he was God's gift to the people he was working on. I think he was upset that I had a dream that wasn't him." Brian nodded sagely, twirling my buzzing phone around the table with his finger. "I grew up with nothing and nobody and had to work my way up from nothing and I don't think he ever respected me for it. That makes that whole phone call thing so much worse. I thought I did this on my own."

"Fiance's a trust fund baby." Brian filled in.

"Trust fund baby," I confirmed. "His family freaking hated me. They had a problem with my cop salary mingling with his old money. They were always calling me impersonal and aggressive and fussing about my masculine job and clothes."

Brian smile got a little thin as he stared at one of the neon signs hanging on the wall of the dark bar. He took a big, deep steadying breath and I knew I wasn't going to like what he had to say. I motioned for him to continue anyway.

"You are a little aggressive, which can be a good thing, but you need to step back. A lot." He looked sheepishly at the table, and then back up at me. "Your planner looks like it belongs to a serial killer."

I was prepared to be upset about the criticism, but that made me laugh. It made me laugh so hard that the bartender looked up from cutting lemons and I knew I had just been cut off.

"Fucking seriously, Brian? I invite you into my home and you dig through all my shit. It took me less than three minutes to change, what else did you find?" I had wanted to sound threatening, but everything was wavy and I knew I was too far gone to be any kind of angry.

"God, those words don't sound right in your mouth. It was open!" He defended. "You have your daily workouts blocked off along with how much you have budgeted to spend on lunch that day. Like, that's insane. You also didn't have anything that wasn't work-related on it. You can't do that in this profession. If you don't build something in your life that isn't work, you will be in so much mental trouble later."

"You're not telling me anything I'm not starting to realize myself." I tossed back the last of my vodka cran. "I hate this place so much I haven't tried to branch out. And I think I fucked things up at work by going in trying to be a bigshot right off the bat, especially when I everybody knew I didn't get the job on my own. And everyone-absolutely everyone knew that but me; I asked around. Also, I'll have you know that I'm being such a tightwad because I'm trying to buy a car."

"You can get past it. You just need to tone it down and offer some olive branches, shit like that." He chided gently. I was beginning to like his dad advice when it wasn't covering pity.

"What do you think I'm doing now?" I blurted, not realizing the gravity of my words.

We fell into a silence that for once, was easy. The bartender came over offered Brian one more before last call, but he waved him off. Instead, we handed over the cash to settle up.

"What kind of car?" Brian asked.

"I don't know yet. I've been drooling over some classic cars on eBay, but I can't drive a stick and I can't keep up with maintenance." He laughed heartily.

"You can't work with me and not be able to drive. The second this case is over, we are fixing that." His fingers drummed the table excitedly.

"First we need to have them fix my FBI car so I can get to work." I reminded.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow." He offered. "It'll be easier anyway. We need to talk about how to handle investigations. I'm not trusting Stasiak's teaching skills."

"You know, Brian," I told him as I got my change back from the bartender. "I think I'd like that."


	5. I Walk the Line

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine

I keep my eyes wide open all the time

I keep the ends out for the tie that binds

Because you're mine, I walk the line

I Walk the Line, Johnny Cash

Z "So this is what a real FBI takedown looks like?" I asked Stasiak and Brian.

The standard looking garage was filled with agents and crime scene investigators wiping down every inch of the place with fingerprinting dust. Pieces of cars were scattered across the space, hoods leaning on the brick walls, doors in stacks on the floor. There was clear evidence of identity theft from the few cars that did have paperwork with information on it in the glove box. The criminals we'd picked up were sitting in a line, handcuffed and waiting on transport, including the guy Eddy was so freaked out about. I had been running them from Brian's car laptop, and many of them had very violent priors. Pulling them off the street was a big deal.

Penning had been informed of the collar and was sounding like a proud father on the phone. Brian was clapping my shoulder like a dad. Because I was there and he was training me, he wasn't a part of the actual team raiding the place, but he was still dressed in his tactical uniform and looked much more at home than he did in a suit. We had been stationed outside in an SUV parked on the street. We had a short car chase with one of the thieves, that tried to run, but he had been young and panicked, driving back to the garage and right into the mass of cops who had already descended on the place.

That short car chase had briefly left me with my head between my knees trying really hard to hang onto my lunch. Stasiak had been cackling at my obvious discomfort. It was easy for him to judge when he was safe and sound in the van looking at screens. He had strolled up in the aftermath wearing khakis, a polo, and a bulletproof vest. He looked like he had been worried his golf game was going to be interrupted with a shootout.

"You got some luck, O'Conner." Stasiak slapped him on the shoulder. Brian shrugged him off with an easy smile.

"Yeah, you know it happens like that sometimes," Stiasak smirked.

"Yeah. It never seems to happen like that for anybody else. Not even Billingsly got this lucky." He pressed. Brian's shoulders got a little tense.

"So which one of you jokers is taking me home?" I broke in before they could start bickering as I speed typed the rest of our report.

Brian and I still weren't exactly friends and I knew he could handle himself, but I didn't want Stasiak starting fights right now. I hadn't slept much because of the alcohol and we had spent the entire day planning this operation. I wasn't even interested in prying into Brian's backstory today; I was sure I could eventually get him to crack like a nut tell me what I wanted to know, but I was going to have to work on him for a while.

"They didn't give you a replacement?" Stasiak sneered. I exhaled sharply through my nose as he began to work my nerves.

"The replacement car is also in the shop, which should shock nobody because all of the Tauruses are pieces of shit." I spat as I tapped the final save button on the report and closed the laptop. The other agents that were booking in the suspects could finish up the rest.

"It doesn't have anything to do with you bending that Charger?" Brian pressed with a grin. I gave him a look that told him exactly what I thought about that statement.

"You don't have a personal car?" Stasiak asked.

"Nope. Lost it in the divorce." I paused as I decided how much I wanted to push my luck. "A phrase I'm sure you're familiar with."

Stasiak flipped me off and then raised his ring finger so both fingers were sticking up in the air. I shrugged. We both knew that ring was from wife number two, but I let it go for now. I didn't need to be on Stasiak's bad side. The whole incident that led to me being put back in training had rumors flying and I knew Stasiak was enough of a gossip to add more fuel to the fire if he was angry at me.

"I'll take you back." Brian offered once we drop the prisoners off.

"No man, I'll do it. You've been spending a ton of time together. Don't want to get sick of each other this early when you have six months of training left to go." Something about the way Stasiak said that made my heart sink inside my chest.

Z

Stasiak pulled up in front of my apartment building and let out a low whistle.

"This is a shit hole, Beck." I rolled my eyes at him.

"It's temporary," I replied, reaching for my bag in the floorboard.

"Having second thoughts about LA?" His voice had the same edge as when he was locking into a suspect. I threw him a mirthless smile.

"I hate this place, but it's not running me off," I told him. He nodded slowly with a smirk. "I get what I want. Stasiak, and not because somebody hands it to me. Did you think I was going to let this bit of a setback get to me?"

"No, I know better. You're a goddamn bulldog."

"Good, don't forget it." I popped open his door and had one foot out when he made the next jab.

"You and O'Conner seemed like you were getting along very well."

I exhaled through my teeth as I put my foot back in the car and slammed the door shut.

"Now, you know me better than that." I snapped. He shrugged.

"It's O'Conner. Because it's him, the rumors are already starting."

"Are you adding to them, Stasiak?" I could feel my face turn red as I glared at him. He looked offended at the suggestion. "What did he do that's so bad? I know he let Dom go, but people act like he shot the president while he was undercover."

In the low light of the street lights, I watched Stasiak silently drum his fingers on the steering wheel and pull at the color of his light blue polo shirt. This deep contemplative state absolutely wasn't Stasiak; he was all loud and bluster and big man posturing and this just didn't fit him at all.

"You actually respect O'Conner, don't you? You're never one of the ones that talks shit about it, you're just rude as hell. You don't even want to talk bad about him now, do you?"

"Everyone's pretty sure that the reason he let Dominic Torretto go had less to do with Toretto and more to do with his sister." He started slowly. He looked like he was about to say more, but I let an angry laugh.

"So he banged a witness and everyone automatically thinks he's banging me? I haven't let anyone else from work in my pants, why would I let him?"

"Considering Bennett was telling everyone you slept with your last chief to get this job and now you're with the pretty boy, that rumor was bound to happen. Hey, I'm only telling you this because it could hurt your chances at moving up, Beck."

Rage was spreading through me like a heatwave. I could just barely register my nails clawing into the armrest of Stasiak's car.

I was going to rip Bennett's head off of his shoulders the second I saw him. That arrogant little cockroach had this job when he couldn't follow a lead to save his life because his daddy was a hotshot state senator and got him a spot at Quantico. He and I had butted heads since the very first time we met and it had only gotten worse. Figures the spoiled brat would be the one spreading this.

"What is his fucking problem with me? He hasn't liked me from the beginning. Is it the perfect tits on an agent that are throwing him for a loop? Or is it just the fact that I'm younger than him and closing out bigger cases?"

Stasiak laughed without humor.

"Monday's going to be fun." My eyes narrowed at him and he laughed harder. "Go on. Get some sleep. You can deal with this later. Just be careful around O'Conner."

Z

"So which one were you thinking?" I glanced up from my work computer to see Brian poking through my notes on car ads.

"I don't have a clue." I went back to fingerprint records.

"You're all over the place. Camry, Chevelle, Impreza, Road Runner, 350 Z," I watched him flip through the pages. His brow furrowed. "Are these in alphabetical order?"

"Yes." The partial wasn't coming back to anyone in the California prison system, so I expanded my search to the New Mexico state database. My computer was running too slow to run more than one database at once.

He sighed as he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the open bottom drawer of my desk. I glanced up from my computer when I saw movement across the bullpen. Bennett was standing with a cup of coffee and a smirk on his face as he watched us work. I briefly fantasized about knocking the coffee all over his crisp white shirt. Lisa the analyst turned after she finished arranging her files on his desk and scrunched her nose up at him in disgust before rolling her eyes at whatever he was saying. She walked away from him without another word. Sensing that I might have an ally in her, I pushed my chair back.

"I'll be back. I'm going to get a doughnut." Brian waved me off as he continued looking at my pro-con lists on cars.

I'd met Lisa a handful of times and was always impressed by how intelligent and elegant she was. She rolled with every challenge with such ease that I was always jealous of her. She always rolled into the office looking polished and put together and had everything together. We hadn't talked very much, but I had a feeling we'd be good friends. Today, I was feeling like taking a little initiative to get to know more people outside of this suffocating hell hole that was the LA field office.

"Someone's going to forget some time soon and bring doughnuts when it's not Penning's cheat day and it's going to be a bad day for us all." I opened lamely as I walked in behind her.

She threw me a pity smile as she poured her coffee.

"There are plenty left." She poked the box with her perfectly polished, neat fingers.

"Where'd you get your nails done?" I asked as I grabbed a doughnut and set it out on a napkin. She glanced down her lavender nail polish. "I haven't had mine done in forever and I miss it. I haven't taken much time for myself since I moved down here."

"This great place downtown. Where'd you move from?" She asked as she fixed her creamer.

"Portland," I answered.

"I've heard it's nice up there."

"Yeah, it's great." We fell into a slightly awkward pause and I shoved the doughnut into my mouth so I didn't say something awkward to ruin it.

"Look, Bennett's a dick." She finally broke the silence. I nodded in agreement.

"I don't even want to know what he was saying. I've heard enough. Nothing is true, so I'm just going to ignore him until he goes away." I told her. She nodded

"I'm going to get these redone next week. Want to come?" She wiggled her fingernails at me.

"Yes," I answered emphatically.

"Us girls have to stick together around here." She offered me a smile before walking out to get back to work.

I felt myself smiling back as made my way back to my desk.

Brian was absolutely right; I needed to do something outside of work or this place would destroy me. I'd get out from under all of this and I'd still rise up the ranks, but the rumours and demotion were stinging me more than I cared to admit. I needed friends and he couldn't be one of them if I wanted the talk to stop.

Z

"So you're hanging out with Lisa this weekend?" Brian beamed at me like a proud big brother as he filed away the evidence reports. It broke me from my thoughts about my meeting with Penning and how I was supposed to handling retraining with Brian.

"Yeah. I think it'll be fun. I've had a hard time meeting girlfriends since I've been here. Especially since work is like at least eighty percent dudes." I forced a smile back at him as I sorted through my stack of papers.

"It's good that you're branching out. You need something that's not this." He gestured to the scattering of paperwork covering my desk.

"You're really right." I paused for a second to wave goodbye to one of the agents as he headed home for the day. "What do you do for fun outside of work, Brian?"

He snorted, shrugging amicably.

"Not much." He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that was becoming Brian's signature sign he felt a little uncomfortable. "I just got back in town, so I feel like I'm still settling in."

"Why don't you come out for drinks with me and Lisa next week? I'm sure she won't mind. You can invite whoever you want and we can make it a party. I'm really hoping to meet people that aren't from work." I pressed, gently enough that I wouldn't upset the balance, but firmly enough that I might make something happen.

"Want me to teach you how to drive a stick?" He offered instead. I nodded immediately. "Most of what you were looking at has a manual transmission, plus you need to know anyway. I can show you around some of the city outside of the office. Maybe you'll like it more if you get outside this bubble."

I smiled broadly. Driving lessons meant cars and Brian and cars meant street racing. Plus, I did actually need to know how to drive a stick if we were going to be partners. Penning tended to assign Brian car-related cases as evidenced by the chop shop case we were finishing up the paperwork for.

"Let's do that. I need a car."

"Sunday?" He offered. "Ten AM, okay?"

"Perfect." I stuffed the last of my papers in their spot and set my files aside. "I'm supposed to have a sedan waiting for me in the parking lot so nobody has to drive me home today and I can meet you."

Brian brushed that off with a smile.

"I'll pick you up. I kind of want you to see me shifting gears for a while before I turn you loose on my transmission." I didn't know what the fuck he was talking about but I nodded anyway.

"Well, I've got to head out. I've got some stuff to catch up on." I opened my drawer and pulled out my purse.

Brian stacked up the last of our paperwork.

"I'll get all this handed in. See you Sunday!"

"Bye!" The smile melted off my face as I turned around to leave.

Brian always seemed so earnest. Picturing him working with hardened criminals was difficult, but I knew it wasn't that far fetched, especially since he had just come back after helping the Vegas division bust up a huge human trafficking ring that he was undercover in.

Maybe he fell in with Toretto because he was stupid? That didn't make sense. He hadn't gotten sucked in any other undercover job, just that one. Toretto didn't look like he was enough of a snake charmer to draw him in like that either. I didn't understand, and it was going to take me a while to break into O'Conner's head enough to get the answer.

I crossed the parking lot, waving to leaving coworkers as I went and replying to a text from Lisa about what time to meet tomorrow. My standard-issue sedan was parked exactly where Agent Pedretti told me he left it. I fished the keys out and unlocked it, sliding in and tossing my purse in the passenger floorboard.

I opened the center console and pulled out the file I had asked Stasiak for. Penning had thrown a fit about it, but I had insisted that if the top brass wanted confirmation that O'Conner wasn't dirty I needed all of the information. I flipped it open to double-check the picture inside.

The picture was taken from far away, but I could tell she was beautiful with a tall, slim figure dark brown eyes and dark, straight hair. She had on a very feminine dress with a cardigan and sandals. I found it a little odd that she dressed so girly after being brought up in a car garage.

I dropped it back in the console and slammed it shut.

Penning was most likely right; O'Conner had a naive moment when he was loose cannon new agent and got too lost in the weeds on his very first undercover job when he met a beautiful woman and would never do it again. He was so very kind and good-willed and thoughtful, that he might try to protect her family, but at the same time, he was so duty-bound and job-focused I couldn't see him risking anything professionally a second time.

Either way, one thing was absolutely for damn sure; I couldn't go back to the top brass with an all-clear report on O'Conner until I knew how things were between him and Mia Toretto.


	6. Drive

And California never felt like home

And California never felt like home to me

Until I had you on the open road

Drive, Halsey

Z

"What is it?" I asked Brian as I walked around the little blueberry of a hatchback he had pulled up in.

"It's a Suburu." He sounded slightly offended as he motioned for me to get in the passenger seat.

He looked so casual in shorts and a T-shirt with the beginnings of a beard starting to show. He looked much more comfortable and relaxed than he did at work.

With a snort, I climbed in. The black leather interior burned my thighs through my athletic shorts even with the AC all the way up and the windows all the way down. Brian was driving fast enough to send my ponytail flying in the wind as he pulled onto the on-ramp of the freeway. He explained the clutch and the gears to me as he effortlessly maneuvered between cars.

He was good; there was no other way to say it. I still felt like I was going to be sick at any moment, but his driving was about as smooth as it got as he pulled around traffic. He didn't seem to have to think as he shifted gears and changed lanes. With his speeding, it didn't take us long to be pulling off an exit. He took a few quick turns down some side streets before he pulled into the empty parking lot of a football stadium.

"Ya need a minute?" He teased as he put it in park and got out.

I snorted in indignation as I got out too. I still felt nauseated, but I didn't feel nearly as bad as I did the first time I rode with him. Maybe that meant I was getting used to Brian.

"I'm good." I poked him in the chest as I passed him at the front of the car. He swatted me with the back of his hand. "Is this your personal car?"

"Nope. Borrowed it from impound." I stopped short at the driver's side door.

Borrowing from impound was a new one. In Portland, it would get you fired in a heartbeat. Clearly Brian wasn't the least bit worried about that. It kind of threw me for a loop.

"Borrowed from impound?" I asked slowly. He shrugged as he settled into the passenger seat.

"Yeah, they let me do it from time to time. It's been sitting for months so it needed to be driven anyway. Come on, you're stalling." He was back to acting like a bouncy puppy with the excitement of teaching me to drive.

I rolled my eyes as I crawled in the little car. Brian was at least six-foot-one, and I was maybe five-foot-six if I stretched, so I had to do a lot of adjustments on the mirrors and the seats. He waited patiently for a little bit, but that didn't last long. Soon, he was declaring the mirrors fixed and telling me to start driving around.

"Just like we talked about." He coached. "Just start slow and don't hit a light pole."

I huffed as I started moving forward. It didn't take long for me to stall it. Brian never lost his patience as he pushed me to try again. It didn't take long for me to be able to make a lap around the parking lot without stalling once. As soon as I got that down, he kept pushing me to practice stopping and then accelerating like I was pulling up to a red light. That was harder for me, but after a little while, I got that down too.

"Time to see what you've got." He teased after he had me stop at the very end of the parking lot.

I had a long straightaway with nothing in front of me, so it wasn't hard to figure out what he wanted me to do. I wasn't sure if I could do it, though. I'd passed all of my defensive driving classes-not with flying colors, but I'd passed them, but I'd never attempted a drag race, especially not while trying to shift gears.

"You can do this. Just focus. Don't stall it off the line." He pressed when I didn't move.

I'd never seen the appeal of drag racing. It was a straight line, nothing more. Who couldn't drive in a straight line? Apparently me, because I was still staring straight ahead trying to visualize some sort of finish line and was failing at it.

"Full speed?" I asked awkwardly. Brian nodded.

"It's got some power, so maybe not. Just feel it out." I nodded uncertainly as I pressed the gas.

We shot off the line. Euphoria rose up in my chest as I moved through the gears, pushing us faster and faster. Brian was right about the power; I hadn't been expecting nearly as much kick out of the little blueberry when I put my foot down, but it could actually move.

I made it all the way up to sixth gear without stalling, then I started downshifting as I decelerated. I pulled into an actual parking place and stopped, looking for Brian for further direction.

"Fun?" He asked. I laughed.

"Fun," I replied. "What does a race feel like?"

He looked pensive for a second, but for once it looked like the thoughts he was buried in were happy ones.

"It's like nothing else. For that time, nothing else matters. There's no problems, just that moment." The more he talked, the more his smile spread. I felt like I was looking at the real Brian for the first time.

"Can you show me?" I found myself asking. He nodded, popping open his door and bouncing out. I hopped out too, taking his spot in the passenger seat.

I rushed him as he put the driver's seat back enough for him to climb in. He swore playfully at me before climbing.

"You going to be okay?" He asked seriously. I shrugged.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Okay." He threw the car into gear and I suddenly realized why he was asking.

I thought I had the car close to top speed, but it turns out we were nowhere close. He whipped us onto the straightway and stopped, turning to look me dead in the eyes. I nodded, giving him the go-ahead. Without missing a beat, he took off.

I felt like my organs were getting moved around as the speed forced me back in my seat. The wind through the open window yanked at my hair until it tangled into knots. I felt a brief shot of fear at the suddenness of the acceleration. It also didn't help that Brian hadn't looked back to the road away from me.

That fear faded quickly. Soon I felt the same adrenaline rush I had when I was chasing that suspect through the back streets. I found myself laughing. The good mood was infectious; Brian's smile kept getting wider and his baby blues lit up with joy.

As quickly as we shot off the line, we were slowing down. He downshifted, finally breaking eye contact. He left the parking lot, turning onto the street. We kept driving through an area of town that I'd never seen before. He pulled onto the freeway, taking us further and further from the LA skyline.

"You good with a drive?" He asked. I nodded wordlessly. "Let me know if you need to stop."

It took me a while to realize he was driving us to the beach. He turned up the coast, and soon we were leaving LA behind.

I felt completely at home for the first time since I'd been in California. For once the sun wasn't oppressive and I didn't feel choked out by the smog or overshadowed by the endless grey skyscrapers downtown or lost in all of the apartment buildings and houses crammed together. I felt so at peace here, basking in the sun from the window, listening to the waves hit the shore next to us and the music on the radio.

Brian finally pulled off into the parking lot of a little beach shack shrimp restaurant. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I saw the sign for food.

"Is this okay?" He asked as he turned off the car. "There's a few more places if you don't want this."

"No, this is perfect." I hopped out of the car, knowing Brian would be right behind me.

We each ordered a shrimp basket and settled onto one of the picnic tables outside. I started devouring my shrimp the second we sat down. I was expecting Brian to laugh at my departure from my normal 'prim and proper' way of eating, but he was wolfing everything down just as fast as I was.

"I didn't realize I was this hungry." I broke the comfortable silence between us once I started to get full. "How did you find this place?"

His smile dropped a little bit.

"An old friend took me here once a long time ago." He answered softly.

"Did he show you this route too?" I asked. "Because I have loved getting to see this part of California. I haven't really left LA, but this is amazing."

"Yeah, I'm glad you like it." Something in his body language told me I'd overstepped, but I couldn't figure out how. "Did you have fun with Lisa yesterday?"

"Yeah, it was great." Grateful to change the subject, I wiggled my newly done red nails.

"Didn't see you as a red nail polish person." He ribbed.

"Then it's going to shock you to learn I also love red lipstick." He laughed.

"You learn something new every day." He stole one of my shrimp and I slapped his hand away.

"Speaking of which, did you know Lisa swears like a sailor? It was the best thing I've ever seen. She's so tiny and put together and then someone cuts her off in traffic and she lets out every word in the book. Like she's got a temper. I wouldn't want to fight her." His bright smile returned and I felt like we dodged getting into something darker.

Getting into Brian's darker thoughts and actions was what I was actually supposed to be doing here, but I couldn't find it in myself to do it to him right now. He looked happier than I'd seen him in a long time and for once, I was happy with him. If Penning was so convinced that he was innocent of shielding Dom from trouble, then maybe he was.

"So am I driving back?" I asked as I swiped Brian's last hushpuppy.

"Why do you think I took you off the main roads?"

Z

"I had a lot of fun. Thanks for this, Brian."

It was well past dark when I was pulling up to the curb at my apartment building. I had managed to convince surfer boy that we needed to stop at the beach while we were out, and since I was driving, he didn't really have a choice on where we went.

Since I had worn my running shorts and running tank top, I got in the water knowing I would dry off in no time, leaving Brian standing in the sand holding my shoes. He kept pretending to be annoyed with me, but I didn't believe him for a second.

The sun was setting behind the horizon when we finally left the beach, both sunburnt and tired. I hadn't wanted to go at all. I could have stayed there forever, parked in the sand watching the surfers catch the waves.

Unfortunately, real-life called. I had to do multiple loads of laundry so I would have something to wear in the upcoming week and Brian was fussing because he still had errands to run too, plus he had to return the car to the impound lot. Pulling up to that curb in front of my drab little building sucked a little bit of the life out of me.

"Yeah, this was great," Brian said as he got out to switch places again.

"I kind of understand the appeal of cars and street racing now." I grudgingly admitted.

"Don't let Stasiak hear that. He'll be all over me about corrupting you."

"Where are they?" I blurted without thinking. His eyebrows rose.

"The races?" He sounded incredulous and the smile was rapidly falling off his face.

"Yeah. I just-" I stopped. I just what? I didn't have a clue.

"They're not for us, Beck." He sounded defeated.

"Anna. My name is Anna." I felt like I had bulldozed my own protective walls with that one sentence. That was the main thing I wasn't supposed to do with the person I was supposed to be spying on.

He nodded, repeated my name slowly like he was testing it out. There was an odd spell between us that thankfully got broken by his phone ringing in the cupholder.

I let out the deep breath I'd been holding as he reached into the car to grab it. I quickly turned around to go inside.

Dear God, what was I getting myself into?


	7. Delicate

This ain't for the best

My reputation's never been worse, so

You must like me for me

We can't make

Any promises now, can we, babe?

Delicate, Taylor Swift

Z

The next month with Brian flew by. We worked several midlevel cases simultaneously for a while, only closing out one or two, which was unendingly frustrating for me. There was a lot of paperwork shuffling and sitting and watching and it was driving me nuts. There had always been a race against the clock in homicide to dig up leads quickly, but the FBI was all about the long game. Brian had been attempting to teach me patience in addition to interrogation techniques, but it wasn't helping.

Stasiak was happy with the change in pace for me, mostly because I wasn't anywhere near O'Conner with bullets, which was a statement I didn't understand and he refused to explain. Penning didn't care either way, as long as I was bringing him reports back saying that I hadn't seen Brian do anything that went against FBI protocol.

So far, O'Conner had been clean. I'd even stolen his phone and dug through it, and when I didn't find anything there, I checked his actual physical phone bill for the numbers he'd called and texted when we stopped by his apartment once. If he was talking to anyone in the Toretto camp, he had a burner, which I had yet to find evidence of either.

After digging through his life, part of me hoped he had a burner phone; his life was sad. His most called numbers were the FBI office and me. He'd met some girl at a bar, and then didn't continue anything with her, after he blew her off for a case. It also appeared that he met Stasiak for a burger and a beer to watch a game that I was a thousand percent sure that Brian didn't have any interest in. I was also pretty sure he and Staskiak were heading towards sworn arch-nemesis territory. That was it: no family, no girlfriend, no friends. Just work.

Based on the discomfort in his body language when Lisa asked him if he had even been in love while we were at the bar, I was going to say his non-existent burner phone didn't include any steamy text exchanges with Mia Toretto or any other girl either. I was giving up hope of him having a fun second life to investigate.

"She didn't mean anything by that," I told him when Lisa got up to go to the bathroom. Brian shrugged. "I'm pretty sure she has a friend she wants to set up with and that's what she's leading up to, so if you want that shutdown, you better tell me now."

"I can get my own dates." He pressed defensively. It was one of the few times I'd seen him annoyed.

"Okay. I'll put a stop to it." He nodded and we fell into an awkward silence. The loud music suddenly became deafening.

"So Marcus called." I blurted. Brian raised an eyebrow. "He wants to use my ring to propose to this new girl in a few months, probably at Christmas in Aspen, because he is just damn sure she is the one."

Brian exhaled sharply. He looked around, finally seeing the waitress and waving his hand at her, gesturing to the almost empty drinks on our table.

"Just for that, I'm buying your next drink." He looked back with a bright smile that soon became infectious.

"I don't miss him." I insisted. "I think if we had been home together more and not so busy in our own lives we would have broken up a long time before we actually did." I paused as I considered how to proceed. "Have you ever lived with a girlfriend before?"

He finished off his beer and before he looked at me. For once he didn't look like he was overthinking things when he shook his head no. I perked up as I knew this was my chance.

"No. I've never lived with somebody. I've been a bachelor forever." He joked. "Just me and occasionally a roommate."

"It's better that way. It's so not worth it. We weren't married and I still feel like he took half my shit. Mostly, because he did." I played with the ice in my glass with my straw. "Have you ever met a girl that is even worth all that pain? Because I haven't. Marcus was not worth all of that."

He shrugged and he disappeared back into his thoughts. He'd been getting better about withdrawing into himself since I'd been dragging him out with Lisa and a few other people from work. They were slowly starting to warm up to him outside of the office. For just a few hours he wasn't the guy that let Toretto go and he could let loose. Unfortunately, as soon as we stepped back through the FBI door that all went away.

I started watching the people on the dance floor in skimpy designer clothes grinding on each other. I scanned the crowd, looking for anyone out of place like Brian had taught me. There wasn't anything out of place at the moment. The bartender looked like he was in the weeds with a crowd pressing up on the bar, tossing money at him. He seemed to be making six drinks at a time to try to keep up with the flood.

"Yeah, once." His admission came out of nowhere and I had to fight to not jerk my head over to look at him. "There was a girl once, but it wouldn't have worked."

"Habits you couldn't get over?" I half-joked.

"Something like that." He said bitterly with a laugh.

"Your driving make her carsick with that street racing habit?" I teased. He shook his head, but he didn't look like he could shake the bad feelings.

"The street racing she could handle, it was more the fact that I was a cop."

His words fell dark and solemn. Before I knew what I was doing, my hand was on his arm.

Brian wore his emotions on his face. I could see his thoughts shifting behind his eyes like the waves in the ocean, but this was the most he had ever allowed himself to say out loud. It should have been a victory, but instead, I felt like I was treading over sacred ground, disrespecting everything that had been buried there.

"God, that was one heck of a line for the bathroom." Lisa tossed her purse on the table and slid back into her chair. If she noticed the weird silence between us or the way I jerked my hand back from Brian, she didn't comment. She was about to say something to Brian, but I jabbed her in the leg with my fingernail. With a smile, she dropped what was sure to be a conversation about her friend.

"Ready to go after this drink?" I asked her instead. She just nodded with a smirk.

Z

The morning sun slanted through Penning's blinds, tossing sunbeams across his impeccably clean office floor. The greying agent was ignoring me as I sat in his plastic fake leather chair for receiving visitors. He was bent over his filing cabinet, fishing for a file somewhere deep in the thousands of dusty pages cluttering his drawer. Some of the files were so overstuffed I couldn't see the label tabs peeking out the top anymore.

Finally finding the one he was looking for, he wedged it out and dropped it on the corner of his desk. It was only when he spun his desk chair around that he seemed to remember that I was sitting across from him. With a sigh, he took a long swig out of his coffee cup before fixing me in a tired stare. The lines in his face deepened as he pursed his lips.

"Close the door, Beck."

"Sure," I said as I got up and closed it with a quiet click. I was hoping no one in the bullpen would notice me closing us in the office together. Rumors had tapered off but they were still flying. I was pretty sure they'd turn this performance review until a disciplinary meeting for sleeping with Brian.

"You're doing better, Beck." He considered me thoughtfully for a moment before he opened another, thin file on his desk. I was sure it was filled with Brian's neat, tight handwriting.

"I feel more prepared," I answered honestly. He nodded as he read.

"He's reported that you've gotten better at report writing and that you're excellent at building cases."

"Yeah. I feel great about it. It's just moving a little slow, which I know is normal when building cases of this size." I offered when he was silent for an uncomfortable amount of time.

He made a noise deep in his throat but didn't say anything else. I was starting to squirm, waiting on him to dismiss me as he was clearly distracted by other things. He took his time, dropping my file back onto his desk and thumbing through the other one. I was about to dismiss myself when he finally spoke again.

"Beck, about our other investigation." He fixed me in a tense stare. I knew that was the stare that had cracked a thousand criminals in the interrogation room.

There wasn't anything to hide, but I still felt butterflies in my stomach. 'Don't get too close' had been a constant mantra in my head any time I was with Brian this past month. There were times when it was seriously hard to separate myself from normal friendship and remember that I was supposed to be investigating him. At this stage, he still didn't trust me to talk openly, so if there was something there, I'd have to be on my game enough to see it.

"I can't find anything. He hasn't let anything slip other and I can't find any evidence of anything else he could have hidden." Penning nodded.

"What has he told you about Toretto?" He leaned back to give the allusion of being relaxed in his chair.

"Nothing direct, but he dances around it." Penning's eyebrows went up and I felt like I was failing. "He's mentioned an old girlfriend that I believe to be Mia Toretto, but there is no sign that he has any contact with her at all."

"And what have you learned about Mia Toretto?"

The words died right before they reached my lips. Talking about Brian's love life felt like a betrayal. The look on Penning's face told me he could see the internal struggle, and he did not see it as a good thing. In an attempt to backtrack, I started thinking of ways to twist the question.

"It's not his words. Brian is readable. He's honest." Penning's lips tightened, so I changed tactics and went with the truth. "All he's said about her is that she didn't like that he was a cop."

I felt dirty and I didn't like it.

"So you've learned next to nothing about Mia Toretto?" His voice was so even I couldn't figure out how he meant that.

"I strongly believe that's because he's not in contact with her anymore. In fact, he doesn't seem to have any friends outside of me and Lisa. He just screams regret and guilt for something that happened years ago. I don't think he's reaching out to any of the Torettos out of loneliness or a desire for redemption, I think he just channels it in and is sad." I gave him as much as I could.

Penning stared at me for a while before he finally nodded.

"You still think he's dirty, Beck?"

"No. Stasiak suggested meeting Mia Toretto to investigate her, but it didn't feel necessary. WIthout a non-FBI issued vehicle, I would have a hard time getting close, or setting up any kind of stakeout. I'll have my own car soon, so if anything changes, it will be a lot easier to run surveillance."

He nodded as he took everything in, rocking back and forth in his chair, steepling his hands in standard Penning-deep-in-thought posture.

"I presume O'Conner is helping you with the vehicle situation." A small smile spread on his lips.

"Oh yeah, it's his favorite. I'm pretty sure he's living vicariously through me at the moment." Penning laughed and started to look actually relaxed.

"How confident do you feel about surveillance work?" He pushed his reading glasses onto his face and started flipping through the thick file on his desk. I relaxed when the meeting moved away from Brian.

"It's Stasiak's specialty, but it's not something I've done a lot of coming from a homicide background, so I probably need work in that area." A smile tugged at the edges of his lips.

"That's the first time I've ever heard you say you weren't the best at something."

"Maybe I'm learning, sir." He snorted without looking up from his reports.

"Do you feel comfortable being alone on a stakeout with O'Conner?" He asked.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I?" I was genuinely puzzled at what character flaw of Brian made him a bad stakeout partner.

"It'll start some office talk." My stomach dropped.

Oh, that. I had been forgetting what a black stain on my reputation O'Conner could be. Honestly, the rumors were dying out and I was caring less and less. He was stepping back and letting me work the cases pretty much on my own with just his watchful eye over my shoulder. I think the fact that I was steering these cases without major failure was helping me overcome that little blip over the phone call. I think it was even slowly helping Brian.

"Bennett's a lazy fucker with nothing else to do." I finally answered a sweet smile. Penning snapped the file up so he didn't have to look at me, but I heard the annoyed sigh.

"Anna, get the fuck out of my office."

I mischevious smirk spread across my face as I hauled myself out of Penning's awful plastic chair and bounded out the door with a hurried goodbye. I opened the door and quickly glanced out, to see who was looking in from the bullpen.

I was trying not to look suspicious because this wasn't something that abnormal at all-just a progress report meeting for the rookie who tanked her career in the first month, but I couldn't help but be conscious of every eye watching me from the bullpen. There were times when I felt like a rat and I felt like at least one of the other agents should have noticed by now.

Thankfully everyone was distracted by a commotion coming from the interrogation room. Taking the opportunity to do my walk of shame from Penning's office in peace, I scurried over to my desk, my heels clicking on the tile floor. The only person who looked up as I moved was Brian.

"We've talked about the shoes." He sighed as he pointed at my pointy-toed heels. These were actually worthy of complaint; we were just doing office work, so I was taking the opportunity to break in my very high stilettos.

"Well, do you want me to get blisters at the club?" I asked him with a shrug as I leaned back on the desk in front of him and lifted one foot to show off my truly spectacular shoes. He snorted.

"You don't go to the club."

"Not now, but you never know. I might decide to reinvent myself as a clubber one day."

Completely ignoring my dumb joke, he turned all of his attention back to his computer screen. I looked over his shoulder at the license picture pulled up. It was so rare to see Brian so still and focused on something, I knew this had to be our big lead.

"Which case is this?" He pushed our robbery case file at me.

Someone was breaking into shipping containers of electronics, loading them up on trucks, and making off with them in the middle of the night. It wasn't a super sophisticated robbery, but they'd made off with millions. Somehow, despite all of the dock security, no one ever saw anything, which raised some red flags for me. Whoever was doing this had some deep pockets if they were paying off that many people.

The man had a California ID. He was a tall Asian man with a large neck tattoo, high cheekbones, and a mean smile, even in his driver's license picture.

"Was this why Penning was asking me about surveillance training?" I felt a smile tug at my lips as I got giddy at the prospect of catching this guy. Brian's expression mirrored my own.

"Hell yeah. This guy's going down. He doesn't stand a chance against us." He clapped me on the shoulder before he launched into the logistics of where we were going to set ourselves up.

Brian on the hunt was interesting to watch. He always got a burst of energy when we go to this point in the case and he could plow through mountains of information with wavering focus. Watching him work this time made me realize that there was no way for him to have covered for Toretto. This was a man with a purpose; he wasn't throwing this away for anything.

He was also one of the only ones that gave me a real chance here. I felt like I could give him that now. A real chance at friendship, one without most of the shadiness. I would turn him the second I saw something, but I was going to let the undercover part of my go for now.


	8. Attention

You just want attention, you don't want my heart

Maybe you just hate the thought of me with someone new

Yeah, you just want attention, I knew from the start

Attention, Charlie Puth

Z

"At what point do we accept the fact that we aren't going to find anything tonight?" I passed the bag of chips back to Brian.

He sighed heavily, taking his time selecting his chips and putting them in his mouth. His eyes scanned the desolate area of the dock in front of us, pitch black and covered in drizzling rain. There was nothing and there had been nothing for the hours we'd been sitting here. All signs pointed to the perps having gotten a tip-off from somebody.

It was hot and humid in the Taurus and Brian wouldn't let me crank it to get any air. I'd shed my blazer and was trying to figure out if I could shed my button-up shirt and just be in my tank top without it being a stakeout faux pas. Brian was still suffering with his tie on and his cuffs still buttoned, so I was going to guess that was a step too far.

"Another hour and then we call it quits." He replied tiredly.

"So I was thinking, this guy's a regular at a club downtown, so could we stake him out there and see who he's talking to? Surely he's meeting with his thieves or at least calling them. Maybe we could get something there that could narrow down a timeline." I asked as I flipped through the file one last time, which was useless because in the dim light I couldn't make out a word.

"We can try it, but we need more proof than seeing him make a phone call and then having another robbery." Brian finally answered.

I groaned as I leaned back into the headrest. We'd been here for hours and the only living thing we'd seen was a rat. We'd decimated all of our snacks at the beginning of the night and all we had left was a cheap bag of barbeque chips that neither of us wanted, but we were too bored to stop eating. Patience was a virtue I did not possess and this was terrible.

"What did you get Rawlings for his retirement party?" I asked to break the silence.

"Does his party fit into your budget?" Brian's voice was flat and I had to look over at him to see if he was teasing or not. I could tell from his face and I felt a pang of guilt.

I'd been struggling with how to act in front of him, and I knew I was a little hot and cold to him. He'd call me on it once and I thought I was being slick by telling him Bennett had started up with the rumors again and I didn't want people to think I was sleeping with him. That did not smooth things over.

"Yes." Things became silent and awkward again. "I think I need help picking a car."

The last part made his eyebrow raise. He looked at me expectantly and I knew he wasn't going to let me slide by with just that.

"I want you to help me. My dream car is a cherry red Chevy Chevelle. I know I'd ruin it the second I touched it, so I was thinking about getting a starter muscle car first."

"Starter muscle car?" His voice continued to be flat and I realized I had a lot more groveling to do.

"Something cheaper, maybe not fully restored, that I could learn how to work on and get used to driving." I tried to explain my plan. He sighed deeply.

"What about something newer? You had newer cars on your list that are less maintenance." He suggested.

"I think I want old American muscle," I explained.

"Have you driven old American muscle?" It was a valid question.

The truth was the massive engines in the old muscle cars terrified and amazed me in equal part. I had built it up in my head to be a monster machine and I wanted it. I also wasn't sure that I could handle that kind of power. It for damn sure wasn't practical, but for once, I didn't care. It was beautiful and I had always had something practical and easy and for once I didn't want practical and easy. I always took the safest option in life, but after that car chase that landed me in this partnership with Brian, I couldn't stop thinking about the thrill. The day to day in the FBI definitely wasn't worth moving to LA and doing all of this, but the feeling of getting those guys off the street was.

Out of anybody, I was sure that Brian would understand, but I couldn't find the words to tell him any of that.

"I want to." I finally answered. He shrugged.

"Okay. I'll take you to look at a few things. I hate to say this, but they'll take you for all your worth if you go by yourself." He was sounding friendlier by the second and I felt myself relax.

I couldn't figure out why I simultaneously wanted to distance myself from him and earn his complete and total approval.

Z

Rawlings's retirement party was at a fancy restaurant in downtown LA with dim lighting, fancy dressed waiters, and starched straight napkins and tablecloths. The group from the FBI office was so large we occupied an entire back dining room.

Rawlings was beloved by all of the people he worked with; the packed out room and the table piled with cards and presents were a testament. He was sitting near the door of the dining room, looking radiantly happy with his beautiful wife at his side as he welcomed everyone that came to see him off. I'd honestly seen less love at weddings.

"Beck!" He greeted me warmly with a huge hug.

Rawlings was one of the guys in the office who still treated me with some respect after everything that happened. I still remembered him clapping me on the back and shaking my hand after my first bust.

"Beck, you got him, but you fucked up. It's fine though; we'll get it unfucked." He had told me as I prepared myself for the ass chewing of a lifetime that awaited me in Penning's office. I was forever grateful for his gentle encouragement of my very first FBI days.

His beautiful, smiling wife hugged me next. They were sweet people and I was going to be sad to see him go.

"Rawlings. We're going to miss you." I told him. He laughed heartily.

"I won't miss you guys. I'll be sitting on the beach."

"I wouldn't miss us either."

A big group of agents came in right behind me and I got shuffled out of the way in the crowd. I felt a little self-conscious as I placed the card on the table with all of his other presents. I looked for a place to go in the crowd, hoping a friendly face would appear. Unfortunately, all I saw were people I had either insulted or were spreading rumors that I was banging Brian.

I was getting nervous when I felt a brush on my elbow. I took a big deep breath when I realized it was Lisa. She nodded comfortingly, pulling me over to the bar. I relaxed when I slid onto the bar stool with her. Brian walked through the door a half-second later. We waved at him and he came over to join us.

"Everyone's back through there and to the left." Lisa pointed as she hugged Brian in greeting. "The waiters can't keep up with everyone coming in and it's happy hour at the bar right now, so I figured this would be a good time to get a drink."

"Thanks, girl. Can you go ahead and order for me? I'll be back in a minute. I'm just going to say hi."

Brian disappeared into the crowd of the back room.

I felt so much more comfortable out here than I did in the crush of coworkers. Lisa was always cool as a cucumber and didn't look she was bothered either way, but I was grateful she had pulled me out here. I didn't fit in with the rest of them, and I had recently started actually trying, but that hadn't seemed to help.

"So guy at the gym." She started with a playful elbow. I chuckled nervously.

"So guy at the gym." I paused as I scanned the happy hour menu.

The bartender appeared and I told her I didn't care what she gave me as long as it was strong and tequila. She promised she could handle that. Lisa ordered a martini for herself and Brian's beer. In a few minutes, the drinks materialized in front of us right as Brian made it back to the empty chair beside Lisa.

"Well, are you going to leave me hanging?" She pressed with a smirk. Brian looked between us and seemed to quickly realize we were talking about guys.

"I'm kind of on the fence. I don't have the time or the energy for an actual relationship." I started sipping the tequila sunrise the bartender had dropped off. True to her word, I got a mouthful of liquor. Apparently she had hooked me up with a little extra.

"No one said you had to do more the sleep with him." Lisa reminded. Brian looked uncomfortable.

It wasn't long before the rest of the agents were taking advantage of the happy hour drinks, especially Rawlings. They spilled out of the party room and overwhelmed the bar. The staff managed to corral us for dinner, but then we spilled out of our room back out to the bar. Cops were a hard-partying bunch, and it looked like the FBI was no exception. We were loud and boisterous and disturbing every patron in the place that wasn't a cop. The three of us stayed tight together despite the crowds pushing around us.

I was grateful for that because when I finally looked up from my conversation with Agent Phillips about the recent counterfeit bust he got, I saw a familiar face. Marcus was standing next to that beautiful blonde he was planning to propose to over Christmas, who looked supremely unhappy at the loud, partying group of cops. I caught a glance of Lisa grabbing Brian's arm from the corner of my eye. Clearly she knew from my pictures who that was.

I was hoping he wouldn't see me, but we made direct eye contact and I knew I was screwed. His eyes widened, quickly followed by his devious smile. He pushed his new girlfriend in my direction.

What the fuck was he doing here?

I swallowed to quell the panic as he crossed the room and tried to pull me into a hug. I got stiff and refused to move from my position on the stool with my drink. Phillips and Brian both protectively moved a little closer. The new girlfriend looked extremely confused.

"Marcus. What brings you this far south?" I tried to not sound fake, but I was drunk. I was so very drunk and this was my worst nightmare.

I was gratefully I had worn my nice grey dress that was skintight and entirely too low necked for the office. I also had on the high heels that Brian hated so much, but showed off my legs so well. I had also redone my makeup for the party, and I was hoping all the cry-laughing I had done with Lisa at Brian's expense hadn't made it run.

"Funny seeing you here. Of all the places in LA. We came down for the weekend." He gestured broadly to the tall, tan blonde at his side. She looked uncomfortable and unhappy. Clearly she knew me and wanted to get out as soon as possible.

"Oh. You should check out the shopping while you're here." I tried to turn back to my drink and my conversation with Phillips.

"This is Julia." Marcus continued.

"Anna." I reached out to shake her hand and she took it limply.

"Nice to meet you." She tugged at Marcus's arm, pulling him to leave.

"Nice to meet you too." I took a big swig of my tequila sunrise, trying to wash the awkwardness away.

"Who are these guys?" He cockily, looking Phillips up and down, completely ignoring his girlfriend's attempt to leave.

Did I expect anything different? Not really. He was cocky and liked to push his perceived power around. He liked to steamroll my opinion in public and I let it go because I was normally not interested in impressing his friends, but now I was wondering how I ever let it slide. Marcus hadn't changed and I was struggling to see what about him I found attractive. He was too short and entirely too cocky. I gave him a pity smile.

"This is Agent Dante Phillips?" Phillips nodded his affirmation. We never used first names, so I tended to forget. "This is Agent Brian O'Conner and the fabulous, brilliant Lisa Nguyen." I gestured to my two friends hovering at my shoulder.

"Mind if we join you?" He pushed. His girlfriend looked horrified.

"At Rawlings's retirement party?" I asked incredulously.

There was a commotion on the other side of the room. I sat up straighter trying to figure out what was causing it. I saw Penning's tall figure with a cell phone up to his ear.

"So you're making friends here?" He shoved himself up against the bar looking Phillips up and down, which was hilarious because Phillips was once a collegiate basketball star and towered over us all, but especially Marcus.

I looked around at my crowd of coworkers with a fake smile plastered on my face. A few of them had noticed what was going on and had turned to look. Most of them had never heard of Marcus, but it was pretty clear from his posturing that he was an ex.

Seeing no way out of this, I grabbed my purse.

"Yeah. You can have my seat." I offered as I moved to leave.

"Yeah, mine too." Lisa looked a little uncertain as she moved to follow. I thanked God for sending me such an amazing friend. She was backing me up with no questions asked.

"Are you heading out? You ladies need a ride?" Phillips offered uncomfortably.

"I'll take them, man. It's time for me to go too. We have early plans tomorrow." Brian nodded.

"Oh yeah?" Marcus stepped in front of Brian. "How long have you been together?" He gestured between Brian and me.

Brian's bright blue eyes flickered to me as he decided how to play this.

"Man, it ain't like that."

If the people around us hadn't been paying attention, they were now.

"This is my partner. Like my work partner. We aren't dating. We're working a case tomorrow." I explained.

"Tonight." Penning's booming voice drowned out what was sure to be a stupid reply from Marcus. He didn't even spare him a second glance. "Beck, O'Conner."

He motioned for us to follow him. With a shrug at Marcus and Julia, I fled after him, leaving the two behind me without a second glance. Lisa and Phillips ended up following us into a corner of the party. Penning didn't bat an eye at the extra bodies.

"Another shipment went missing, but this time the entire shipping container was loaded on a truck that disappeared." Penning addressed the four of us in a hushed tone.

"So they switched the game after we started doing surveillance. Do we have records of the staff working during all of the robberies? It sounds like they're all in on it." I asked.

"The company wouldn't give it up without a warrant." Lisa filled in.

"They've got to have something on a manager or somebody of a higher level to be blocking us like this. They're losing so much money it doesn't make sense for them to help the thieves." Phillips suggested.

"You'd be surprised how much they're making with the kickback and the insurance money," Brian added.

Penning seemed to consider this.

"It could go either way. We'll need a warrant for those records." Penning turned to leave but had another thought and whipped back around. "Beck, you're entirely too toasted to be back at the office."

"I am, sir," I answered honestly. The S in sir came out much more thickly than I mean for it to.

Z

"What the fuck was that?" Phillips asked when we all piled into Brian's Taurus.

"I"m hoping a drunken bad dream," I answered honestly. He laughed heartily.

"Girl, we've all got that ex. Just spill it." He poked the back of my neck and I turned around to smack his hand.

Surprisingly, I found myself laughing. It was almost like having my ex-fiance show up at a work event had made me more approachable. I accidentally voiced this out loud and Phillips agreed that I suddenly seemed more human.

"Two narcissists under one roof. What was that even like? It sounds like a nightmare." He chuckled to himself. The smile slid off my face. Even the alcohol didn't dull the sting of that comment.

"It was awful." I finally blurted.

"But he's gone." Lisa tried to sound encouraging.

"Damn, O'Conner, did you see the legs on his girlfriend?" Brian looked awkwardly at me.

"She's fucking gorgeous. I hope she gets out while she can though." I answered for him.

"Ten bucks says he sends you a wedding invitation." Phillips prodded my shoulder from the backseat. I was beginning to think I was not the drunkest one in the car.

"Definitely. He's using my ring to propose to her in December." Phillip's let out a whistle.

I was expecting it to hurt, but it didn't. Phillips was treating me like a real person for once and we had some leads to chase down on a case that was growing cold. This wasn't a bad night. A month ago I would have been crying, but I felt a little stronger.

"Beck, you need some help picking out that revenge dress?" Phillip's flirted. Everyone in the car barked out a laugh.

"Has he earned a trip home yet?" I asked Brian. He nodded quickly.

"Me and Lisa are about to take this case on singlehandedly."

"Why would we need anyone else?" She replied without missing a beat.

Brian always said LA would start to feel a little like home, that I would eventually win the respect of the people around me, and I would start to enjoy spending time with them. This was the moment it all happened. For the first time in a long time, I didn't miss going out in Portland with my Portland coworkers talking about Portland cases. There was something exciting about speeding through LA drunkenly plotting the best way to take down more serious criminals. We weren't talking about canvassing neighborhoods, we were talking about stakeouts and undercover ops.

Nothing could destroy this feeling, not even my past ghosts crawling back out to haunt me. I refused to look back, only on what laid ahead of me.


	9. Drunk on Love

I've been let down

But never been tainted

So I stay thirsty for more

No, I won't hold back

No drop is wasted

I'll let love run its course

Drunk on Love, Rihanna

Z

The LA traffic was as thick and heavy as the summer afternoon. There was a crushing horde of commuters being rerouted due to a few accidents and even though there was still a flow to it, traffic was bumper to bumper. I got honked at by a black BMW as I changed lanes and pulled off of our exit so I flipped them off out the window before I downshifted. I was moving through the gears almost without thinking now.

"You know, I think I'm getting the hang of this," I told Brian.

His smile was a little limp when he looked over at me.

"Are you still hurting?"

"I'm a little sore."

True to his and Lisa's words, they hadn't needed the rest of us. While Phillips and I slept it off at home, they met the few other sober agents at the office and together with the help of the weekend night skeleton crew managed to chase down our criminal. Sure enough, it was the thin, sketchy looking Asian man Brian had been suspecting all along. When they went to bust him leaving the club, he ran for it, managing to lead them on a decently long foot chase. Brian won, but he won by dragging the guy off the top of a twelve-foot fence, taking the brunt of the fall on his back.

He'd spent the rest of the night in the ER, getting poked and prodded and x rayed to make sure nothing was broken. Thankfully, everything came back clear and he was able to be released about the time I had slept it off enough to sober up and drive.

That was pretty good timing because apparently I was his emergency contact and I was the one who the nurse called to get him home while he was sleeping off the pain meds.

I used his trick of borrowing a car from impound -with Penning's permission-because I figured that would bring a smile to his face. He deserved it; this was a massive bust for him. Everyone in the office was talking about it and calling to congratulate him, but he was, unfortunately, was not getting to partake in the big celebrations at the office.

It had sort of worked, but he looked too tired and stiff to fully appreciate the Subaru Impreza I had borrowed for him. I had taken him straight to a chiropractor on Stasiak's recommendation and that had seemed to help, but he was clearly getting a few days off after this bust.

Neither of us had mentioned the fact that I was the only one he had to call. Truth be told, it broke my heart a little. It also made me realize that the only one I had to put on my emergency contact when I moved here was Penning and I needed to change that to someone else.

I knew my life sucked, but I was fully aware my life sucked. I had walked away from my friends who didn't understand my need to go further and my fiance, but that last one wasn't such a loss. I did miss the neighborhood we lived in and the house, but that was about it from him. My last set foster parents were so elderly that they had passed away a long time ago and I hadn't kept up with any of my foster siblings. I knew when I got on that plane to LA that I wouldn't have anyone when I landed.

Brian was so bright and kind that I expected him to at least have someone here. If he was single, which I was kind of surprised pretty boy was because he should have been beating off the women with his baton, I was at least expecting him to have a close-knit group of guys. Even if work wasn't going well, I figured he would have his bros from something else. His family didn't say anything about his family, and I could fill in the blanks on that one because mine didn't either.

Of all people to have no one, it shouldn't have been Brian. He didn't deserve that.

"Marcus keeps calling me to meet him at this fancy-schmancy cafe for lunch out in Hollywood," I told Brian to distract him from how sore he was as my phone started to buzz in my cup holder for the third time that day.

"Are we going?" He asked as he picked it up, and looked at the caller ID. Sure enough "DR DOOM" was scrolling across the front screen.

"Of course not. I'm going to pick you up some take out, get your prescriptions, and see if I could find a better way to get you home than that mess." I flipped a hand at the freeway overpass filled with cars we were now driving next to. I turned left to pull down a side street, blowing through a yellow earning another honk from a guy trying to turn right. "Damn, this car is fast."

I was expecting Brian to descend back into silence, so I was completely unprepared to him greeting somebody about the time the vibrations of my phone stopped.

I whipped my head around to see him leaning back in the passenger seat with my cell phone against his ear. He gave me a sharp look and pointed at the road. With a huff, I refocused back on the side street in front of me.

"Yeah, man. Look, she's driving a stick, she can't hold the phone and do that in this traffic." My anger grew as he paused to listen to Marcus on the other end. "Yeah. Yeah, sure. Which restaurant was it? Yeah, I know where that is. It'll be at least twenty minutes because of a wreck. Is that still alright? Okay. We'll see you there."

My entire head was getting hot as I struggled for the words to tell him how angry I was. He looked a little smug sitting there. Finally, I managed to bark out a "What the fuck?"

"Make this right up here and we're going to straight down this road for a few miles and take a left." He paused, his icy blue eyes taking in my angry face. "It's going to take over an hour to get back to my apartment and you know it. You also know you need to do this. Maybe he'll leave you alone."

"Brian, I am not dressed for this. I just threw on the first thing I could grab." I indicated my t-shirt and running shorts, which by some accident exactly matched Brian's t-shirt and jeans that I had found in his gym bag at work and brought to the hospital for him to change into. Apparently we both had a deep love of the color blue.

"There are stores." He indicated some of the buildings flying by the windows.  
"Do you know what area we're in?" I almost shrieked as I started to get nervous on top of angry.

"Consignment." He pointed directly ahead and to the right.

Thankfully it was to the right. I downshifted and pulled us off the road. I thought I was pretty smooth despite the speed, but Brian's eyes were a little wide when I looked over and he was grabbing the door handle for support.

"Look, there's a pharmacy," I told him as I pulled into a parking space and turned off the car between the two businesses in a strip mall. "It's time for your meds."

"Yeah." He muttered under his breath as I opened my driver's side door. I shot him a look.

"You got something to say, O'Conner?" I raised my eyebrows.

"You're an aggressive driver. I like it, but not today." He shot me his first real, bright smile of the day. I felt myself smiling back.

"We need to get you home instead of going to lunch with my psycho ex." I shut the door and reached for the keys in the ignition to restart the car.

"I need to get out of the car and walk, and we'll be in traffic for hours if we try to go now. I might as well take my medicine and get some entertainment out of this." He slapped my shoulder and started opening his door.

"Do you need help getting out?" I put my hand on his shoulder. He brushed me off gently.

"Go buy yourself something pretty." He patted my head sarcastically and left me to run my own errand.

I moved away from the car slowly, I felt myself wanting to hover over Brian like a mother hen as he made his way into the pharmacy. He was clearly sore. He was usually bouncy and loose and ready to go at any minute, but today he was stiff like a mummy in an old horror movie. I started to walk in with him, but before I made it three steps towards the door of the pharmacy, he turned and waved goodbye before tapping his watch and heading inside.

Knowing he was just as stubborn as I was when he decided on something, I let it go and hurried into the store next door.

The girl at the counter didn't even look up when I walked in, which was fine by me. I quickly flipped a few price tags and figured out I could only buy one thing to make an outfit work, which might be a bad thing considering I had on running clothes. With a sigh, I started flipping through the racks. I snatched a few things off the hanger and tossed them into the dressing room. I took a quick second to glance at the shoes before trying everything on.

That was a mistake. Before I knew it, I was running my fingers over the smooth expensive Italian leather heels, practically drooling at my options. I was going to have to take Lisa back to this place. They were all pretty much mint condition and all beautiful, which was making picking a pair hard. I finally closed my eyes and grabbed one. I came back with a pair of brown wedge sandals that looked very casual California compared to my work shoes.

They were coming home with me if I had to show up wearing them with my running clothes.

I quickly rushed into the dressing room, throwing on the shoes and pulling off the tag so I could pay for them. The dresses I had grabbed were easier to pick from than the shoes. Two didn't fit, one cost as much as my weekly paycheck, and one fit, but I just hated it. That left me with a super short button up navy shirt dress with three quarter length sleeves.

I heard a bell and knew that it had to be Brian looking for the keys. I heard him asking the oblivious cashier if I was in the dressing room

I took a second to look at myself in the mirror. I had on minimal makeup but it would have to do. I had lipstick and sunglasses in my purse to hide what didn't look great. My mousy brown hair was long and limp and in desperate need of another coloring appointment to put my highlights back in, so I threw it in a topknot on top of my head and pulled out two tendrils on either side of my face.

"I'm coming, Brian," I yelled through the door after I heard the cashier tell him she didn't know where I was for the third time. I gathered up my things and pretty much kicked the door open, breathing like I had run a mile after getting ready so fast.

They were both staring at me as I handed the shop girl my pulled off tags on the counter and then threw a pair of earrings on top of them from the register display. She tried to tell me I couldn't just do that, but I cut her off with a thirty second explanation of where we were going. After that, she rang me up without issue.

I could feel Brian's eyes boring into the side of my head. I finally turned around to look at him.

"What?" His smile got bigger.

"You look pretty." The cashier looked between us like she thought it was adorable.

"How many muscle relaxers did you take? Give me your drugs. You've lost medicating yourself privileges." I snatched his pharmacy bag from his hand and shoved everything in my purse.

The girl looked a little shocked as she handed me my card back.

"Have a nice day," I told her before she could comment as I herded Brian to the door.

Z

"I can't believe you wanted to drive." I hissed in indignation at Brian as I walked him into his apartment building holding his leftovers and stuff from the pharmacy.

He was feeling significantly better after taking his muscle relaxers and moving around at lunch. He was also feeling the pain medicine and was a little out of his head, but it wasn't terrible. His back had loosened up considerably.

"You'd make one hell of a street racer." He told me as he held the elevator door open for me when we stepped inside.

I felt a real, genuine smile break out on my face. That was the highest compliment Brian had ever given me.

"You think?" I asked him honestly.

"Yeah. I do." He looked at me with a wide smile. "You still want to go look for cars together?"

"Absolutely!" The smile on my face got a little wider.

"Are imports on the table?"

"Now, you're pushing it, O'Conner." I teased him as the doors opened on his floor.

He laughed, following behind me as I looked down the hallway for his apartment number. I almost walked past it, but I remembered which one it was at the last second. I unlocked it for him with his keys and tried to hold the door for him, but, ever the gentleman, he grabbed it and motioned for me to go inside first.

I started making myself busy, putting his food in the fridge and setting out his prescription bottle. I was working on getting his new heating pad out of its box, when I heard the familiar sound of the top being popped off a beer. I turned to glare at him, but he shrugged.

"I have beer or energy drinks." He rationalized.

"Or water." I motioned to the faucet, but he waved me off and grabbed his medicine. He quickly skimmed the times on the labels before he set them back on the kitchen counter.

"By the time you shower, it'll be time for one last round of pills. These two only." I pushed the two bottles apart so he could tell which ones.

"Thank you so much for today, Anna." I snorted.

"You're thanking me? I'm pretty sure I would have thrown that candle on the table at Marcus if I had gone by myself and I'm also pretty sure he got his bragging in and won't call me anymore." I paused as I thought it over. "You were completely right. I feel like I need that lunch for closure. He's a jerk I should have walked away from a long time ago. I actually really liked his future fiance though. I hope everything works out for her."

"Why didn't you?" He asked solemnly. I was kind of a big change from goofy, pilled up Brian that I drove over here in the borrowed car he kept talking about wanting to race.

"I met him when I was nineteen. I was a patrol officer and he was doing some observation at the hospital ER. I brought in an overdose and I was compressing her in the back of the ambulance with the medic. I felt like I was Wonder Woman swooping in and working to save this woman. As soon as we got her in the ER he was jumping in on compressions and we made eye contact over her and I think the adrenaline went to my brain because I felt this spark."

I looked at Brian to see him looking intently at me.

"Horrible story isn't it? We were talking about trying to save her in the medic's break room and he asked me out. I went and suddenly it was a few years later and I was feeling a little trapped and I just thought that was normal. I thought I just had to deal with it because it was just a stage of a relationship because I had never been in a relationship with anyone else. When he forbade me from joining the FBI I knew I had to leave him."

"You don't seem to have a lot in common."

"We like to be the best and do all the exciting stuff at work and then come home and have sex and talk about how awesome we were. It was amazing how long that was enough to keep us going." Brian laughed weakly. "You know things don't work out. People just aren't meant for each other."

He looked contemplative as he popped his pills in his mouth, finished out his beer, and grabbed some stuff out his pile of laundry basket next to the couch. He motioned towards the shower. I waved him off and started folding everything for him so he wouldn't have to bend down again. I waited until I heard the shower turn off to get ready to leave to make sure he didn't fall out in the shower after he took the pain pill and the muscle relaxer early and with alcohol.

He came out of his bedroom a few minutes later dressed in some sweat pants with no shirt. I used all of my self-control to not look. I was used to seeing all of our agents shirtless in the gym, but seeing Brian shirtless in his own apartment felt super wrong.

"Has he texted you again?" He asked as he pointed at my phone sitting on the counter next to me.

"Nope. And he won't. He wanted to rub Julia in my face and he did it, so I think he's done. I think I'd get along with Julia if it weren't for him."

"You super sure you're not meant for each other?" He asked slowly.

"Why because rubbing a new boyfriend in his face is something I'd do? Because I will remind you we aren't anywhere close to romantic and you agreed to do this, not me." He tried to shrug me off, but I could tell his shoulder locked up. "But, no. We aren't meant to be."

"Yeah. you're right about that. Have you ever had someone you think it would work out with if you were in another life?" He was swaying a little in his doorway and he looked high as a kite and sleepy as hell. I should have grabbed my stuff and left so he could go to bed, but that question stopped me.

"No, but that sounds like the worst." I tried to keep my voice flat.

"Yeah, it is. I feel like if we were different people if I-" He stopped. "I feel like if things were different, I would have a whole other life."

"Would you be happy not being a cop? Just being a mechanic and a driver?" I asked him point-blank.

"Yeah. Things would be so different." I pulled my purse over my shoulder and was about to leave before he could say anything incriminating, but he kept talking. "I like being a cop too though. I like getting the bad guys and doing the right thing, and I just wish doing the right thing would get me the other stuff too."

"What other stuff, Brian?"

He looked me dead in the eye, and despite being so medicated he was gripping the sides of the door frame for support I knew he was thinking hard about something deep.

"Family."


	10. React

When I get messed up at the party

I make a scene and get upset

But when I wake up in the morning

You bring me breakfast in bed

And act like there's nothing to forget

React, Pussycat Dolls

Z

The bass was deafening. It was thrumming in my chest like a second heartbeat. I let the current of the beat carry me through the waving, undulating crowd. Hands pulled and tugged at my body like the current in the ocean as I danced my way through the throng of too hot bodies, making my way to the bar.

The bartender perked up on my arrival. He dropped the wad of cash he was counting into his tip charge and wiped his hands off on a dirty, limp bar rag. My heart was hammering in my chest, faster than the beat of the song, and I was wondering if he could see it beating out of my chest. He was staring like he could.

"What'll you have?" He asked after a beat of silence.

I shrugged noncommittally.

"Why don't you tell me?" I counted to three as I looked him up and down before I continued. "I'm tired of my usuals. I think it might be time to try something new."

White male, early thirties, medium skin tone, black hair and beard. Height approximately five feet eleven inches. Weighing in at about two hundred and thirty pounds. No sign of a weapon in his waistband, but I was willing to bet there was one under the counter.

"You're a vodka girl, aren't you?" He leaned his weight on the counter, shooting a quick glance at my face before settling back on my neckline.

"Tequila is another favorite of mine." I tried to sound bored. He nodded slowly. Another man came up to order, but he ignored him.

"I'll fix you something special." I smiled at him without showing my teeth.

"Remember to check your periphery." Stasiak screeched in my ear. I jumped at the voice but managed to play it off as a hair swish.

I was really wishing Brian's medical leave would be over so I didn't have to deal with Stasiak. Or maybe I wasn't. Without Brian around, I had been shoved straight into undercover work.

The skeezy club was filled with skeezy patrons. Not one of them stood out to me. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched closely, and I was trying to figure out if that was because of the FBI guys on surveillance, or if it was because there was someone at the club. I could feel someone's presence behind me and I didn't think they were FBI.

I was broken from my thoughts by the bartender returning with my drink. He had gone to the other side of the bar and made it with his back to me which was a huge red flag. He dropped a beer on the counter for the man that had come up to my left, and then focused all of his attention on me, personally handing me the cocktail.

"So what did you choose?" I asked as I pulled a ten out of my top, playing up the motion to keep him interested.

"A little of everything." He answered with a chuckle that was meant to be flirty but made me cringe. "Are you here by yourself? What's your name?"

Red flag number two. Or forty. I had given up trying to count the number of red flags this place was waving.

"Yeah. I just moved here. I'm trying to meet some people. My name's Sara." I offered him up an actual smile.

He seemed super interested, shifting his weight and smiling at me as he handed me my change. I dropped a few dollars in his grimy tip jar.

"What brought you to LA?" He was over-enthusiastic now and I felt the prickle run back down my exposed spine.

"I'm going to be an actress." I smiled broadly. He looked me up and down and I could feel the thoughts running through his head.

We were hunting an offshoot of the same sex trafficking ring Brian took down in Vegas. Those working for it had a very straight forward MO: identify vulnerable young women in a dive bar, get drunk and/or drugged, drag girls to a secondary location, get started on heavy drugs, make it hard for the women to leave, and eventually manipulate the women into working.

The difference was Brian was undercover as a John. I was not undercover as a John and I was about to freak out. Brian was still at home with cracked ribs and had no idea I was out here with Stasiak. I could only imagine the freak out he would have over me being pushed out into the field so early.

For the first time in my life, I felt really truly unprepared for where I had found myself and I was having trouble staying calm. It didn't help that they had shoved me in some booty shorts and the tiniest, crop top halter thing that didn't cover my upper half at all. I was falling out and extremely self-conscious, especially knowing that every man I worked for was watching the cameras for this right now and would be for the next few weeks if our investigation tonight gave us a lead.

I faked a sip of my drink, smiling at the bartender as I thanked him for the drink and told him I enjoyed it. As we made meaningless small talk, I felt the presence at my back push even closer and I knew we were going to walk away with at least some information.

"They're playing my song. I'll be back to see you later." I finally found a way out of the conversation. I pushed off the bar and moved for the dancing crowd, swaying my hips as I walked. I squeezed myself onto the dance floor between a few groups of people, dancing on anyone that got close to me, disappearing in the mass of bodies.

I felt three taps on my hip and the drink disappeared from my hand, replaced with a mostly empty Malibu and pineapple juice that thankfully was the same color as the concoction the bartender fixed up for me. I made a big show of taking big sips through my straw.

"There was a guy watching me at my 5 o'clock. I couldn't get a look but I know he was listening in."

"I've got a group of guys, but I think I see who you're talking about." Stasiak's voice was cut with static over my earbud. "Harvey do you have him?"

I felt the agent dancing behind me shift as he looked around for the group of men.

"Negative." He whispered.

There was a beat of silence as Stasiak went through the cameras.

"Back off and see if he makes the approach." And just as quickly as he made contact, Harvey left me on the dancefloor by myself, moving back into the crowd.

I immediately had another male dance partner, but Stasiak confirmed it wasn't anyone from our group of guys. We danced for another few songs before I realized my drink was empty. It finally occurred to me I was not acting drunk enough to be worth the mark's time.

With the new realization, I amped up the giggling and drunken dancing. It wasn't long before another man was pulling me away from my dance partner. I wasted no time wrapping my arms around his neck and shoving my tongue down his throat.

"Tone it down! That's him. Harvey move in." I heard Stasiak chirp quickly before the line went back to silent waiting.

"What's your name?" I giggled into our mark's ear.

The wave of disgust I felt when his hands circled around my back was crippling. I instantly went stiff when he pulled me into his body. I was afraid I made a mistake when he took a step back.

"David." He answered. He let his hands settle onto my hips. I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding; I'd backed him off with my body language, but I hadn't scared him off yet.

"I'm Sara," I told him as I made myself stumble in my sky-high heels. He laughed, helping me stand up straight.

I forced myself to look up so I could memorize his face. He was just barely on the attractive side of average. He was Hispanic, five foot nine, with an average, muscular build. He had buzzed black hair and brown eyes. There was enough of a sharp jawline and defined cheekbones to call him attractive but at the same time, he could blend into a crowd.

"Do you want a drink, Sara?" He motioned to the bar.

"What?" I chirped back, feeling my face blush as I started to panic.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He yelled louder, pulling me to the bar by the hand.

I forced a laugh and stumbled again.

"I want to dance! I've already had way too much. I'm already so dizzy." I grabbed at his shoulders, forcing him closer to me.

"I know a place where you can rest." He responded, pulling me the opposite direction of the bar.

My heart jumped into my throat as he dragged me away from the bar, through the dancefloor, and towards a VIP room. Stasiak was barking orders to Harvey in my ear to keep up with him and constantly reassuring me that they had me on camera and could raid the place at any second. I started to tell him that I was okay, but I was about to have an anxiety attack.

If he looked for the wire, I was dead. If he separated me from the FBI in a private room, I was dead.

Instead, he didn't do that. He dragged me to a VIP couch, flirting with me the whole entire way. We still had a view of the dancefloor, which meant Harvey and Stasiak could still see me, but we had a much more quiet area to talk.

I slurred out all of my acting plans to him, sloppily flirting the whole time, trying to drag information about himself out of him. A drink appeared in my hand and I pretended to sip at it and pretended to get drunker by the second. I was also getting more scared by the second, but I kept that under wraps.

He let me tell him about my ideas for a screenplay and my imaginary sister for a long time until he finally grabbed me by the hand and pulled me to my feet, grabbing my license out of bra as he did. He made if a flirty motion, but I just felt nauseous; it had obviously been poking out, but still. He pulled me to the front of the club, towards the taxis. I just knew we were going to the secondary location, but instead, he kissed me deeply and pushed me into the taxi by myself.

"Are we going to party more?" I asked him before he could shut the door with me in the backseat of the taxi. He laughed.

"Shit, next Saturday night there's a party here. I'm looking for some girls to help out around here. I need some VIP waitresses. We can party afterwards as hard as you want to and make you so money while you do it. Am I going to see you there?" He smiled brightly and I had a feeling that if I was dead drunk I would have been very interested.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, David," I told him with the last bit of flirtiness I had. He passed me a flyer from his back pocket and gave me one more kiss on the corner of my mouth.

"Good. He'll get you home." He motioned to the taxi driver as he shut the door.

I breathed a deep sigh of relief as I slumped against the door. Stasiak was barking orders in my ear to all of the other agents watching the camera's in the van. He soon faded out as the wire lost range as the taxi headed to my fake home address.

I was shaking. This time, it wasn't the excitement of the chase. I was really and truly terrified when that guy had his arms around me in the club.

Z

I watched Penning throw the file on his desk with an impressive amount of strength. Papers flew out and fluttered across the room.

"He's made her out to be a cop. This just got too dangerous to send someone else in!" He bellowed.

"I don't know. She was pretty damn convincing." Stasiak murmured under his breath. Penning whipped around and fixed him in a glare.

"This seems like grooming behavior. See what they can get away with and set them up with a job. I watched the men with him do this with two other girls. He put each one of them in a taxi home. Gives a false sense of security that they left safely." Harvey added.

"He took my license, so maybe that's his way of screening for cops? Or his way of drawing women back to him if they think they lost their ID." I pointed out. The flyer had the club number and the details of the waitressing job on it. If they walked back in for their ID he could repitch his employment opportunity when they were sober.

I had changed out of my hooker suit the second I got back to the FBI office and was now wearing grey dress pants, a baggy button-up shirt, and a pair of flats. There was an FBI SUV that followed the taxi to the address on my fake license, so as soon as the taxi driver helped my nearly 'passed out' self to the door and drove off, a group of agents was picking me up.

We ran through every bit of intel on David and his group of guys we had found on our sting. We went through most of the footage, which made me cringe. We also got the chemical analysis back on my drink, revealing that it was spiked, which made me cringe even more.

"You'd better be right. I've got the top brass breathing down my neck to root out this little nest of rats and if he moves his operation to another club, I'm not sure we'll find him again." Penning stared thoughtfully at the pictures scrolling across the monitor of possible criminals in the club.

We sat in silence as Harvey collected the stray papers that had been flung out of the folder. Penning looked like he was fuming more and more with every page that went back into place. He finally turned to fix me in a steely gaze.

"Beck, my office." He wheeled around on his heel and stalked off towards his open door.

I followed him, much less confidently than I had in the past. He waited for me to get across the threshold before he slammed the door, closing us in.

"How are you?" He asked awkwardly as he looked at me, searching my face for something.

I shrugged.

"I'm tired, but it's four in the morning."

The truth was, I felt gross. I had been practically naked in front of half my coworkers and groped and grabbed by every creeper in that stupid club. I really wanted to go home and shower.

"Beck, undercover work is not for the faint of heart." I opened my mouth to interrupt him, but he waved me off. "You're going to be asked to do things that violate every moral code you have and no part of that is easy. I want to make sure you understand that."  
"I do." I cut in indignantly the second he finished his sentence.

"Wearing revealing clothes is just the beginning." He paused as he looked at me. "You were way too good at this. You're going to be picked up as a deep-cover agent when this is over for sure and we need to start getting you ready now."

"Are you talking about me being afraid to put myself in bad situations or about me not turning someone in like O'Conner?"

He knew. He knew how much being half-dressed in that club disgusted me. He also knew Brian was growing on me probably a little too much.

"We always start preparing our deep-cover agents early, so they don't end up like O'Conner, but I don't know why I'm talking to you about this. You'd betray your own mother if the opportunity presented itself."

"Excuse me." I spat. He shrugged.

"You're a loose cannon in uncomfortable situations. You did okay tonight, but what about next Saturday if we put you back in? I think you're too green for this." He flipped open the file with David's picture from the security footage and flipped it around to show me. "We need to know who he is before we put you back out there. I'm afraid you're going to get hurt."

"You didn't think I'd make it through tonight, did you?" I asked him hesitantly. He nodded his affirmation and I felt rage.

"I'm happy you didn't try to shoot him or tackle him in the club, which is what I was thinking. You did good, but I think we're pulling you off of this to put another agent in."

Underneath the rage, I felt relief. I wanted to drag this lowlife in kicking and screaming, but stepping back in that club made me want to vomit.

"Debrief with O'Conner. I'll have a new case for you Monday when he's back to work." He dismissed me with a wave of his hand.

Z

Brian's door swung inward before I could knock and I was hit in the face with the smell of fresh pancakes and bacon.

"Who told you?" I sighed tiredly as I stumbled in his apartment still in my work clothes right as the sun was coming up.

He looked more alert than he normally would have at this point in the morning which told me he hadn't slept. He was wearing his basketball shorts and a t-shirt with a heavy five o'clock shadow on his face, so clearly he had not spent his time awake getting ready. He had to have gotten a heads up from somebody.

"Harvey did. He didn't tell me much, just that he was uncomfortable and they pulled you for a more experienced agent. Apparently that was a good thing." Brian pushed the door closed behind me and motioned towards the breakfast food being kept warm on his stove.

"He's uncomfortable?" I snapped shrilly.

I cried after that conversation with Penning. I felt like I was being punished, but at the same time, I was relieved to never have to step foot back in that place. I was so conflicted because that was my first big undercover assignment and I should have been fighting to get back in there, but I wasn't. I didn't want to go back there in skimpy clothes with these creeps. I couldn't see Brian blending in with them at all, and the thought that he at one point did made my stomach roll.

I knew Brian could read me. He knew I wasn't feeling great after this undercover night, so I told him everything. Every tiny detail on panic and discomfort. His jaw got tighter with every word. His bright and sunny face looked like a thundercloud when I was done.

"That was way too much for you to go into as a new agent. Way too much. What if they had lost sight of you? What if they had spotted the earbud? You would have been killed in a heartbeat." He angrily slapped a pancake on a plate and shoved it towards me.

"Brian, I failed at undercover work." I broke in with the part he didn't seem to be getting. He shook his head.

"No. No, you didn't. You got the information. No one got hurt. That was a successful operation."

"Then why do I feel like this? I also got pulled off the case!" I felt the angry tears welling back up, but I tried to shove them down.

"Good! That's too dangerous for your first undercover op. Did you think undercover work was going to be easy? You're nothing but a conman. You wedge your way into these people's lives and then rip it apart." He sounded bitter.

"Is that what you did to Toretto?" I blurted before I could think.

He recoiled like I had slapped him. I saw a brief flash of betrayal in his eyes. Not knowing what else to do I reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"I didn't mean that. I didn't and you know it." I pleaded with him to believe me, but his posture was still rigid, which I'm sure hurt with his bruised ribs and hurt back. "I just- I"

I was floundering. I put up a front on someone that always knew what they were saying and was comfortable in any situation and didn't care what she did to hurt someone else, but that was all gone in an instant. I felt more vulnerable and open to hurt now than I ever had in front of anyone in LA. This was worse than being told I got my job because I was someone who was owed favor's golden girl.

"I know you let him go, and I'm trying to figure out why. I think I'm starting to understand, but I'm not quite there yet. You've always done the right thing or at least thought about what the right thing is, so I know you had good reasons. I'm not trying to insult you, Brian. I'm trying to understand you." The tears started to slide out like they always did when I was upset. I hated being a crier, but right now I was so upset, I couldn't stop.

He tossed a paper towel at me so I could wipe my eyes and awkwardly patted my shoulder. I managed to reign it in a little and he started to relax a little.

"Do you want to know why I let Dom go?" Brian asked after a long minute of awkwardness.

"If you feel like you want to tell me," I answered slowly.

"I don't know." He stated with finality, staring deeply into the kitchen counter. "I really don't. I guess, in that one moment I respected Dom more than I ever did myself."

"What about him did you respect?" My question seemed to pull him out of his deep thoughts.

"Mia used to call him gravity." He said after a long pause. "You just got pulled into Dom. It was hard to walk away. You've read his file, so I'm sure you know all about him."

The last part was bitter and was a stab to the heart.

"I've read a lot of files to get ready to be FBI, but I'm learning they don't tell the whole story. Look at Eddy. That confession never should have happened like that, but you knew."

"Treat them like people." He repeated the line he used every time we interrogated somebody.

The lightbulb went off and I just realized he got me to admit that I had my hands on Toretto's file. He hadn't given it to me and I hadn't told him I had been checking up on his early career. I suddenly felt like I was sitting next to the master and I didn't know anything at all.

I was pretty sure Penning had made this forced partnership so that I would have this epiphany. Even I could admit that it needed to happen; I hadn't been open to being taught until he pushed me in with Brian.

I was starting to change and maybe it was for the better. I was even starting to not care what my coworkers thought of me anymore. At least I was until I had to put on clubbing clothes in front of them.

I snorted and Brian looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"I just realized how many of our coworkers have seen me half topless. Think I'll ever work my way past that? You know, gain their respect after that?"

"Work past that? I think you just made a bunch of new friends."

I snatched a pancake off the top of the stack and launched it at his face.

"Now that's fucked up!" He yelped with a laugh.

"Is it, buddy?" I asked as my face turned bright. "I'm off until you got back next week so they have until then to forget."

Brian's face lit up in a bright, surfer boy smile.

"Know what that gives us time for?" He was back to his normal golden retriever self.

"You to calm the hell down?"

"Time to pick you out a car!"


	11. Fast Car

You got a fast car  
I want a ticket to anywhere  
Maybe we make a deal  
Maybe together we can get somewhere

Fast Car, Tracy Chapman

Z

My files on car choices were spread across almost every square inch of Brian's living room floor. In the dead center of the coffee table was a list of needs and wants scrawled on one legal pad with a second one filled with pro-con lists right next to it. Brian was sitting next to me with his elbow propped on his knee with his hand covering his mouth. I had a sneaking suspicion he was stifling a smirk because of the wrinkles forming around his eyes.

"Would you prefer that we just start driving around looking for something? That would be anarchy." The smile lines deepened and I knew he was laughing at me.

"I already set up a time this afternoon to look at some. You can relax now." My eyebrow shot up as I turned to take him in.

"Which ones?" I started rifling through the files closest to him, but he smacked my hand away.

"Take a nap, Anna. You're overthinking this." He grabbed a few of the files and tossed them to the other side of the room, out of my reach.

I couldn't sleep. I had just had my first FBI undercover assignment and I felt miserable about it. I was questioning whether or not moving down here for the FBI was worth it at all. What if I couldn't do this? What if I ended up sitting at a desk pushing files for somebody that was actually out there catching the bad guy? What if I did all of this and failed?

Brian pushed at my arm and I realized I had been staring into space somewhere in the direction of my lists on the table. He swept those off into the floor too, but the way he looked at me afterward made me think he absolutely knew I wasn't staring at the list. I tried to brush him off, but he put his hand on my shoulder and I knew I didn't have a prayer of that.

"What's making you nervous about it?" He asked when I didn't say anything.

"I just feel gross, I guess," I muttered quietly. He nodded.

"Most undercover ops won't be like that." He paused. "Can you deal with lying to people that you've bonded with? That's the real question to answer when you're deciding if undercover is right for you."

"I've done it for years," I answered bitterly. He shrugged.

"We all have to some extent, but I promise this is different."

His blue eyes were so deep and thoughtful and unbearably earnest and it was making me nauseated. I knew I could do it because I had, but I couldn't tell him that. He could never know how our relationship started. I thought he might understand, but I don't think he'd ever forgive me.

"I can do it, Brian," I replied a little more firmly. His lips pressed into a thin line.

"It's easy to turn in the people that are hurting other people, but those lines get a little grey sometimes." He seemed like he wanted to tell me so much more, but he stopped talking.

I shrugged in response and he let his hand fall. He motioned back towards his bedroom. A fake smile spread across his face.

"Come on. Borrow some clothes and sleep here. We've got shit to do this afternoon."

Z

Brian and his bouncy golden retriever personality was bad at times, but it was so much worst when you had to wake up to it. He dragged me up after an hour and a half, which was not enough sleep after being at the nasty club the night before. He slung my gym bag from the trunk of my Taurus as my head and demanded I get dressed before he shut his bedroom door again, leaving me bewildered and grumpy.

I forced myself to get dressed in my yoga pants and a tank top, even though I really wanted to curl back up under Brian's comforter and go straight back to sleep. He was so excitable this afternoon that I was afraid he'd come back with a squirt gun to try to pull me out of sleep. He was goofy enough to have one of those handy.

The second I was dressed and opening the door, he was shoving a peanut butter sandwich in my hand and dragging me towards the apartment door. I choked the sandwich down in the elevator, knowing that I would need something on my stomach for Brian's driving.

I was expecting him to have borrowed from the impound lot again, but I was not expecting him to have borrowed a standard Honda Civic. I pointed at it, expecting him to give some sort of explanation, but he just shrugged and motioned for me to get in. Wordlessly, I did as he asked.

I trusted him, probably more than I should have.

He turned the car over and it was definitely more than stock under the hood. I nodded in appreciation when he turned to smile at me. He glanced at his watch, then gave me an even bigger grin. I felt butterflies in my stomach because I knew what was coming.

"We're running late. Ready to see what this thing can do?"

He did not wait for an answer.

The cars parked down the side of Brian's street were nothing but colored streaks as he took off, laughing like a little boy with a new toy. I swore at him as I grabbed the handle above the door. He completely ignored me as he turned down some side streets. He kept going at the same speed until we stopped at a red light. I used the change in pace as an opportunity to slap his arm.

"No hitting the driver!" He yelped with a laugh. He snatched my water bottle out of the cupholder and tossed it at me.

"You're going to make me puke in the impound car!" I shrieked as I tossed it back.

"If you buy a car today, then you won't have to deal with my driving anymore." He reasoned.

"You just don't want to see the files and printouts anymore." I accused.

"Damn straight." The light turned green again and he took off from the line like it was a street race.

I only had to endure twenty more minutes of Brian's driving with a quick stop off at the bank before we pulled up at a garage. It looked like it was falling apart, which was fine by me. If it wasn't a high dollar establishment, then maybe it wasn't a high dollar car.

"It's a 1971 Ford Maverick. It's still a slight fixer-upper on the outside, but the engine is absolutely solid. It's a smaller car compared to some of them, which I think will perfect for you in traffic. Reasonably priced. I think this will be it." He told me as he pulled up into street parking.

The Ford Maverick hadn't been on my radar, but I didn't mind branching out, especially if Brian recommended it.

A thin white man in his mid-thirties walked out of the garage doors as we pulled up. He had stringy, unkempt hair and his clothes didn't look like they'd been washed in days; much more grime than the normal mechanics I'd dealt with had on them. I grabbed my gun out of my purse and shoved it in my waistband. Brian's brow furrowed and I knew he was also on edge.

Without waiting to talk about it, I got out of the car. Brain scrambled to get out after me so I wouldn't be by myself. The man-sized up Brian before he turned to me. I gave him a thin, tight-lipped smile.

"1971 Ford Maverick?" I asked. The guy nodded as he scratched his hairy chest.

"Are you the one buying?" He sounded surprised as he turned his eyes over to me.

"We'll see what you've got first," I answered mildly, stepping up to the garage door.

Brian was right, it was perfect. It was smaller than some of the other muscle cars I'd looked at, which was fine with me. The paint was a bright blue with a white stripe, but it was very dull and rusted, clearly in need of some TLC. That wasn't going to deter me though: if it was going for the right price I could get it repainted quickly.

"Pop the hood," I told the man. He raised an eyebrow at me.

Refusing to show an ounce of discomfort or unconfidence, I motioned at the car with my head. Apparently I wasn't looking like someone that would actually purchase what he was selling, because he rolled his eyes and sighed as he walked over to it. He got the hood up and moved off to the side flipping a hand at me dismissively.

The engine was massive. I didn't need to know all of the parts to know this thing had some power behind it. The parts all looked new, even under the dirt. The way Brian exhaled behind me told me it was worth more than the rest of the car.

"You got the keys?" I asked the man.

"The keys?" He asked incredulously looking at Brian.

"Yeah. I'm going to drive it before I make you an offer." He scoffed at me. "The price we discussed is firm."

I glanced at Brian out of the corner of my eye and he nodded, signaling whatever they discussed was fine. I didn't even know what the number was and honestly, I didn't care. I ran my hands over that gorgeous, strong engine and couldn't help but imagine myself racing, feeling my heart in my throat like I did on that car chase.

"I still want to drive it," I told the man. He shrugged at got the keys from on top of his workbench, practically throwing them at me.

Without waiting for Brian, I dropped the hood and opened the driver's side door. The interior needed a little work, but it definitely wasn't as bad as I was expecting. Brian gave me a subtle thumbs-up as he moved to the passenger side.

"Back in ten minutes, and you better not bend it." Our friendly salesman grumbled.

"You don't want to come?" I offered sweetly. He waved me off.

With a grin, I shut the door and turned it over. The growl the engine made was incredible, and I knew I wanted it. Brian started listing off facts that the man had told him over the phone, but I wasn't listening at all.

I shifted us into gear without stalling it and started pulling off into the street. Brian offered some words of encouragement, before going over what needed to be fixed and how much he was quoted and how to use the rest of my budget. As soon as I got off into the street, I opened up the throttle. Brian looked a little startled, but I kept pushing it.

The adrenaline was back, just like it was before. The rush-to-the-head, heart-in-your-throat, stomach-about-to-drop-out feeling of euphoria mixed with a little bit of fear was back. This was what I wanted.

"Slow down just a little up here." Brian cautioned, but I didn't do it.

I downshifted, took a curve entirely too fast, and then pushed the gas out the other side. I kept control, but I slid the back end out a little bit. I kept driving until I realized out ten minutes were up. Without thinking, I pulled over to the side.

"This is it, Brian. This is what I want."

I wanted that feeling. I wanted to feel that almost out of control feeling. I wanted to race.

That realization hit me like a ton of bricks and I almost said it out loud, but I knew I couldn't; Brian would put an end to that one quickly. He might even go so far as to report me to Penning. That wouldn't happen though; I'd be sneaky. First I'd hand the sketchy dude a wad of money, get the repainted, and then I'd find the races.

"You look so much happier than you have in a long time. I'll help you fix the one or two things wrong with. I'll teach you how to do it so you can do it yourself." Brian offered with a grin.

Caught up in my own happiness and my resolution to get myself to the races, I leaned over and kissed Brian on the corner of the mouth.

"I'd like that very much."


	12. Sorry

Brian stiffened the second I made contact. I could feel the warning bells going off in his head, but I still felt so exhilarated and happy from the heart-pounding adrenaline that I pressed on. I planted a second kiss on his stiff lips. His hands came up to my shoulders, but they didn't push me away. His lips softened up a little, but I could still feel how uncertain he was, so I backed off.

"Ready to head back so we can pay the meth head?" I asked brightly.

His blue eyes were wide in shock as he stared at me.

"What was that?" He asked cautiously. I sighed.

"It was a kiss," I said. "A simple kiss."

"We're partners, Anna." He sounded offended. "_Work _partners. We can't do this."

I scoffed at him.

"It doesn't have to mean anything, Brian."

"I'm not a no-feelings kind of guy." He replied, firmly. I raised an eyebrow at him.

Interesting. Especially since I knew he had a lot more with Mia Toretto than a quick peck on the lips in a parked car. I wondered if he had been like this before or after her.

He stared at me like he knew what I was thinking and he wanted me to stop. He probably did; he had tricked me into admitting that I had been skimming through his files. He always held people that knew a lot about him back then at an arm's length and regarded them a certain amount of suspicion.

"I'm-not." I finally answered to move the conversation along and end the awkward silence. "A kiss really is just a kiss for me."

I wasn't lying. I wasn't thinking about anything more with Brian, I had just gotten caught up in the moment. He clearly wanted it to go away, so as far as I was concerned, it would. I'd never bring this up again. Looking at face though, I knew he didn't believe it.

Without waiting for him to reply, I pulled off the curb and turned us back to the garage. We made the trip in absolute silence.

"Took you long enough." The man griped when we pulled back in.

"Sorry." I shot him a bright smile, too happy to care about his gruff manner now. I whipped out my cash out of my purse and waved it up under his nose. With the way his eyes settled on the cash, I knew I wasn't going to have any more problems out of him. "Now, I think it's time we signed some paperwork."

Z

"So we're good, right?" I asked Brian when I walked up to his desk in the bullpen. I'd been working on finishing out my paperwork all morning while Brian was sifting through files like a madman. I had made it until almost lunch when I had to talk to him.

I winced at the words I chose to start that conversation. There was no preamble or greeting, and there probably should have been. Come to think of it, I hadn't even told him thank you for helping me pick out my Maverick. Yeah, I probably should have started there.

We hadn't talked about the kiss since we left the garage.

I'd been elated at my new purchase, driving straight up the coast with the windows down until late into the night. Brian had taken the impounded car home back and that was the last time I saw him. I had meant to reach out to him the next day, but then it occurred to me that maybe some of the people selling the old muscle cars were street racers and he hadn't wanted to run into them shopping with me for the cars on my list. That led to me doing a lot of research on a lot of people. I pulled a bunch of criminal records and found out I was right; most of the guys in LA selling the restored muscle cars I had been looking at had some history of street racing, with several having charges from around the time Dominic Toretto ran the streets and Brian was infiltrating his gang. Brian was still trying to cover his secrets.

I had been about to report that to Penning when I started thinking. The more I started thinking, the guiltier I felt. I had crossed a whole lot of lines in my relationship with Brian, and kissing him and then tattling to Papa Penning just felt like a step too far. I knew I was wrong for doing it; I'd told Lisa as much as I could without giving away my assignment to stalk Brian and she'd said as much.

Brian cocked his head to the side, so I knew he heard me, but he didn't look away from the file he was reading.

I felt a hot flush of shame spread up my face.

I was a horrible person.

Brian was a good person; he'd helped me through the stress of my first uncomfortable undercover assignment, helped me get my dream car, and I'd cross all of his boundaries, made him uncomfortable and never even apologized. I was also being impulsive again, doing the first thing that popped into my head without a second thought about anything else.

Hadn't Penning accused me of being a loose cannon in one of our meetings?

My face was really turning red now.

"Are we good?" I repeated. "I'm sorry."

It sounded like an afterthought and that was probably because it was.

"Have you seen the new case?" He asked distractedly as he flicked the pages of the file in his hands.

His tanned forehead was screwed up in concentration. I sighed because I knew I'd never tear his focus away. Either it was water under the bridge or he was going to ignore it to focus on the case. I knew I couldn't let it go, but I could drop it for the moment.

"Braga Cartel?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No. That one is in the very beginning stages; we have literally nothing on them at the moment." He murmured to himself as he flipped the page. I shifted my weight uncomfortably while I waited for him to look at me.

"Are we going to get this out of the way or-?" I blurted, unable to handle it.

Brian said as he looked up to make eye contact. He looked tired, but he didn't look angry. He looked like regular Brian, so maybe I was blowing this out of proportion. Or not, considering I hadn't even told him thank you yet.

"We need to go pick this guy up for questioning." He shook his file at me. From the look in his eyes, I knew he was locked into the hunt and I wasn't going to get a word out of him. "I'll explain in the car, but we need to go. I think they overlooked a lead."

He bounced out of his chair, headed for the door like I had tossed a ball for him. I exhaled as I followed him out to the car, taking my spot in the passenger seat. I knew I should be asking about the case, but I had to get this handled first.

"I crossed lines and I'm sorry. I'm also super grateful for your help picking out my car. I love it very much." I sounded stilted, like a kid being told to apologize by her mother.

His hand hovered over the keys in the ignition as he looked at me.

"So it wasn't mild blowing?" He asked with fake indignation.

"Brian!" I whined. "I am so bad at apologizing. I'm really trying."

He gave me a look that said try again.

"I am really sorry, Brian." He smiled thinly at me and I knew he was about to tell me that it was okay, but I shook my head to cut him off. "It's not even a little bit okay. I'm so type A and organized because my life was a fucking mess and that was the only thing I could do to get it under control; make lists and bury myself in whatever work I could find. It works great for a little while; I make plans and then I get things done, but I just get so restless! I get restless and impatient and then I just do things. Kissing boys is absolutely on the list of impulsive things, but it's so much worse than that: I've kicked in doors as a cop that I had no business entering, I've stolen that LAPD Charger and not called off chases I should have. That last one is the big one"

"Your life was a fucking mess?" He grinned and I knew he was teasing me. "What is it now?"

"I am trying to open up to you, asshole." I weakly smiled at him as the tears started to come to my eyes. I cursed being a crier any time I was upset.

"I know all of this about you. You're hot-headed, you have a temper, you go with your gut in the situation. You're brave, but you're also stupid." His baby blue eyes were boring into my brain. I had to look away because of the intensity. "I guess, what I'm trying to say, is you're a reactor. This can be a really good thing, but I'm very worried that it will get you in hot water."

"I'm not going to plant one on Penning next time I close out a case, if that's what you're worried about," I replied dryly.

He laughed, finally cranking the car. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror for a split second before he reversed smoothly out of the parking spot with a vengeance.

"Look, I don't have feelings for you." He said as he threw the Taurus into drive and took off. I nodded at his statement. It didn't sting because I felt the same. "We can't do feelings right now, or probably ever, but definitely not now that I'm your superior."

"I get it and I feel the same way. It wasn't a 'feelings' kind of move for me; I just was so happy for the first time in a long time and I got carried away." I admitted. "So we're agreeing to pretend this never happened?"

"Oh, it happened. I went home with red lipstick all on my mouth." He teased, shooting me a winning smile.

"Red would so be your color. You want to just borrow the tube, so you can apply it without help next time?" I teased back. I felt like I was finally able to exhale some of the awkward tension I had been holding in. The rest of it melted with Brian's bright smile and loud laugh. It was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

"Fuck off." He finally answered.

"Fuck off?" I found myself laughing at him. "Is that the best you got?"

He raised one long, tan middle finger in my direction.

"Do you want to hear about this case or not?" He asked. I nodded and he put his finger down. "It's a cold case that found new DNA evidence. It's a murder."


	13. This is Gospel

This is gospel for the fallen ones

Locked away in permanent slumber

Assembling their philosophies

From pieces of broken memories

This is Gospel, Panic! At the Disco

Z

Hayley Daniels was a mother of three and a waitress when she went missing. Her body wasn't found for two years, and when it was, there was nothing but skeletal remains left in the shallow desert grave outside LA. They'd managed to pull a carpet fiber out of her shallow grave that had been wrapped up in the shower curtain they'd buried her in. The new DNA evidence was a blood smear that came back to her found under a baseboard in a Napa Valley bed and breakfast.

That was as far as Brian got into his explanation before we were pulling up at a swanky LA mansion. He had pushed the buzzer at the gate a half dozen times without getting an answer. I could fit my face through the bars in the fence and could tell that no lights were on inside the house and there was no sign of any movement in the curtains, which was the usual dead giveaway that someone was home.

We waited for about half an hour before we got a call from another agent saying the owners of the house were staying at their bed and breakfast in Napa. Brian looked more frustrated than I'd ever seen him as he got back in the driver's seat. As I got in beside him, I realized this was the first time I'd ever seen someone get away from him.

He sighed as he stared into space out the windshield. I expected him to start driving ninety miles an hour back to the office to work out his frustration, but instead he grabbed the file and dropped it in my lap.

"The bed and breakfast is owned by a senator's son. She was talking to her girlfriends about meeting someone new and rich and this was her chance to provide for her kids, but she had to keep it a secret from his family for the moment. She went on a date to meet him at a restaurant but was never seen again. No one ever showed up for the reservation she made. We have the phone records, but nothing ties back to him, except a few short calls from an office building where he worked at the time."

"Does he have a history of violence towards women?" I asked as I flipped through his thick file. Sure enough, I found a police report from the neighbors that heard a woman screaming for help. He was a college frat boy then. The woman refused to make a report and I was pretty sure if I pulled her financials from way back then I would find a payment.

"If there was a complaint it's gone away quickly." Brian sighed. "I've been looking over her case all morning. I feel it in my gut that I need to talk to this guy. They've escalated it to us because the locals keep not finding anything. There's a huge suspicion they're burying evidence."

"Then our next stop is Napa Valley," I said with finality as I gave him a small smile. He grinned back, breaking his serious expression for the first time.

"They won't talk to us if we go in as cops." He hinted.

"Wait, are you suggesting an undercover assignment?" His grin was contagious.

"Might as well. We'll have to call Penning to get approval for the road trip anyway."

Z

The Napa Valley was more beautiful than I was expecting. I felt like I could finally breathe outside the concrete, smog, and stacked on top of each other houses of LA. Brian seemed to feel the same way because he went from being strung tight and on edge about this case to relaxed and laid back.

We'd taken turns driving all day, reading the file out loud the entire way until we'd gone through it three times. Bennett Ross was never a suspect in the first place, because why would he be? They'd interviewed several other attorneys in the office where he'd been interning and not one of them said anything about knowing Hayley until a law clerk came forward after they'd interviewed Bennett. His timing had always been considered odd, and the clerk had been investigated thoroughly, but of course, they hadn't found anything connecting him to the missing woman.

The bed and breakfast in the middle of a vineyard never been searched because it was so far away from where she was last seen and where she was found, but it wasn't impossible. Bring her there for a surprise away weekend, kill her, and then drive her body back out and dump it. No one would ever look at where she was actually killed. It wasn't a normal way to hide a murder, but I'd seen more complicated cover-ups.

The only reason the bed and breakfast was on the radar was because a guest had dropped a heavy suitcase that popped the baseboard off the wall. He was trying to fix it himself so he didn't have to pay for damages when he saw the blood on the floor previously covered by the board. Thank God he called the police instead of the front desk. I was sure they'd scrubbed the place down since the crime scene was discovered, but at least they'd gotten the DNA from the blood. There was no carpet to compare the fiber to because they'd torn it all out and replaced it.

"You ready?" Brian asked as he turned off the winding main road onto the driveway.

"Of course, sweetheart." I laid my hand across his forearm, batting my fake eyelashes at him.

He made a face at me and laughed.

"I'm so glad, Mrs. O'Conner." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Don't you mean, Mrs. Spilner." I couldn't even say the name Spilner without it sounding nasal. The fake name was so horrible I wasn't even able to pronounce it correctly.

"They used to tell me that was a serial killer name," Brian told me as he pulled into a parking spot next to a shiny new BMW SUV which was owned by the Rosses.

"That's because it is." I reminded him as I stepped out.

I glowed like a beacon in the moonlight in my short, white wedding dress and sparkly wedding shoes that Brian kept making fun of. I was ignoring him because I knew I looked fabulous. He looked like he did every day in his best black suit.

"Get the bags, darling," I told him sassily as I started walking towards the door to the giant house. I barely made it three steps when the door was opened by a man in his late fifties.

He offered a warm greeting before shooing Brian away from the trunk of the car and grabbing the bags himself. He reminded me of Brian on his happy days because he was all warm smiles. He ushered us into the lobby of the bed and breakfast. It was furnished with plush, expensive-looking couches.

A woman who I knew from the file to be Mrs. Ross stood up from an armchair where she was enjoying a glass of wine when we stepped in. The man with our bags left us with her and carried out things upstairs.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Walker!" She greeted warmly. "I'm so glad you chose to stay with us after your elopement."

She wrapped Brian in a hug that was entirely too long to be appropriate before she let go and wrapped her arms around me. She complimented my dress and shoes and I shot Brian a triumphant look over her shoulder. He rolled his eyes. Once she finally let us go, she walked up the stairs, gesturing for us to follow.

"Your dad already took care of the bill." She told me conversationally over her shoulder. "He didn't want you to have to worry about a thing while you're here."

"He's always been so generous." I gushed without missing a beat. Penning also didn't have time to give us a debit card that had a fake name on it. "Aren't you so glad your father in law treats us so well? Especially after all of those horror stories your friends told you."

"I think more girls have problems from their in-laws," Brian suggested.

"Maybe." I looked away from him to Mrs. Ross. "What do you think?"

"Mine were okay." Her lips pressed together in a way where I got the feeling it was quite the opposite. I'd have to ask her about that tomorrow. "Distance makes the love grow stronger! How did you meet?"

"We met at the gym," I answered quickly.

"I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I thought I was about to be thrown out for staring!" Brian added charmingly.

We had originally had a story about me working in a restaurant he frequented when it suddenly dawned on me that that was how he started worming his way into Toretto's group. It hadn't seemed to bother him, but I decided to leave those memories buried for him. If he cared I switched the story without talking to him, he didn't let on at all.

"That's so sweet." She said as we reached the third floor. She walked us to the room on the end and unlocked it for us. "I had them set some champagne out for you." She winked and I felt a little uncomfortable.

"That's very kind of you," Brian answered when I didn't say anything. I could feel the flaming blush settling in my cheeks.

"Have fun! We'll see you at breakfast." She dropped the keys in Brian's hand and walked away with a flip of her perfectly cut and highlighted blonde hair.

Z

"So I know wedding night sex is an obvious no, but I feel like not opening the champagne is rude." I teased Brian as I stepped out of the bathroom in my pajamas.

The room had a fireplace open on both sides with a giant bathtub standing in the middle of the open bathroom directly across from the bed. You had a perfect view of the bathroom from the bed or the bed from the bathroom. I had had to change in the tiny closet that kept the toilet out of view. There was going to be no privacy when we had to bathe. It was already awkward with only one bed, but we were at least expecting that with this being the honeymoon suite. The fully visible tub was a shock.

"We can open the champagne." He assured as he waved the corkscrew at me. "We just can't get drunk."

He was sprawled on the bed with the content of the file spread all around him. I brushed the papers off my side of the bed and cleared myself a place to sit down. The second I was settled, Brian was handing me crime scene photos.

"We need to find this carpet." He pointed at a picture of the fiber found on the body.

"Can we pop a baseboard off and put it back down without it being obvious? Maybe there's some left against the wall from when they redid the floors." Brian shook his head.

"No. I'm afraid they'd notice it and there's only a slim chance we'd find anything." He chewed his lips as he thought. "We need in the room where the blood was found. Room 203."

"We'd have better chances of finding things in other rooms. Did you smell the paint on the second floor?" I asked.

He nodded. "They've had time to cover evidence. We need to investigate Ross himself."

"I don't know that the room is the place where she was killed either." I handed Brian the crime scene photos again. There was a tiny spot of blood under where the baseboard was. It was so small I questioned it being enough to be fatal.

The poor woman had suffered severe beating before she was shot point blank in the back of the head. There was blood evidence here that would have soaked through the carpet into the subflooring. They wouldn't have been able to bleach all of that completely clean. There was evidence somewhere. The crime scene techs did a terrible job of looking for it according to the pictures.

"We need our forensics people in, not these locals that can be bought."

Brian was right. Maybe we could get enough to get them a warrant. This woman's story deserved to be told. That was why I loved being a homicide detective. These people were gone, but their killer remained and that wasn't fair. I could never stand that they were forgotten and whoever took them off this earth could keep going like nothing ever happened. I wanted to drag whoever did this face first through a pile of glass to the nearest police station.

I looked at Brian as he poured over the information in front of him. When he felt me staring at him, he looked up and met my eyes. An understanding passed between us; tomorrow we were going to meet the senator's son and we were going to search this place until not one secret remained. We'd never let him get away with this.


	14. Wake Up Call

Six foot tall

Came without a warning, so I had to shoot him dead

He won't come around here anymore

Come around here?

I don't think so

Wake Up Call, Maroon 5

Z

We descended the stairs at the very end of breakfast time the next morning, clutching each other's arms and giggling. I was hoping it was enough to fool Mrs. Ross. I wasn't sure Mr. Ross would be there, but I was hoping he would be. I was ready to get out of here. Trying to rinse off in the tub this morning while Brian was dutifully staring at the wall was about the most awkward moment of my life. I'd also woken up sprawled completely on top of him at least twice which was definitely crossing the coworker line.

"Just do as I say, Maria!" Floated up the stairs in a deep male voice. We shared a quick look.

My heart jumped into my throat as I heard a bang. Brian's arm was out from around me in an instant as he jogged down the stairs. I took off after him, trying to stop him before he could blow our cover. Fortunately, he stopped just out of their sight to listen. All we heard was quiet crying. We cautiously walked down the stairs.

"Oh! There you are. I'll have Katie start breakfast." Maria Ross called as soon as she saw us.

"We weren't sure we were going to wake up in time for breakfast. We were up kind of late." The blush popped right back on my face and Brian grinned. Maria would probably misread that, but I knew he was making fun of me.

There was no misreading her. She looked like she was about to cry, but she had buried it under a bright smile. Bennett was nowhere to be seen, but there was a coffee mug that smelled strongly of alcohol on the table.

"Let me get Katie." She vanished through the door that apparently led to the kitchen.

Brian and I shared a quick look. This had to be our guy.

Z

"Did you get anything?" I asked Brian when he met me back at the gazebo. I had my feet propped up and a glass of wine in one hand and book in the other.

"Not a damn thing that we can use."

It had been three days. We'd buddied up to the housekeeper and the maintenance man who we were sure were hiding something. I'd tried to befriend Mrs. Ross. Brian had worked on Mr. Ross. None of it was giving us anything solid.

We were both damn sure about Bennett Ross though. He was charming and handsome every time we spoke to him, but it was clear his wife and the staff was afraid of him. When he looked me in the eye, alarm bells went off in my head. Brian hated every second of being alone with him, but he kept meeting him for drinks and cigars after I had 'gone to sleep'.

Brian did get him to admit that some of the local cops worked for him. He had apparently bought an LA detective a retirement house out here as well. That could be our way in, but it didn't leave us with enough for a warrant to bring in forensics.

"Let's go back to the room and regroup then." He nodded and gestured for me to lead the way.

I would have thoroughly enjoyed this place if there hadn't been the overhanging presence of a murderer. The garden was buzzing with bees on the summer flowers and the wine and sunshine were amazing. I had downed two glasses of wine buried in a thriller novel while Brian had called home to Penning and had loved every single sip of it. I also loved the food, but I was less excited about dinner tonight because the owners were going to be dining with us.

The air condition was cool when we went inside the building, but all of the curtains were pulled open, filling the lobby with warm sunshine. I knew I should go up to the room with Brian, but I had a strong urge to sit in my favorite chair and finish my book.

"You go ahead and get your bath. I think I'm going to stretch out and read." Brian's eyebrows went up as I pointed out my favorite chair.

"You sure." He asked.

"Yeah." I waved him off. Lurking in the lobby could only help us spot something new and I was going crazy staring at the dozens of crime scene pictures and the police reports.

"Alright. I'll see you at dinner." He kissed me on the lips before he went up the stairs.

I settled in, preparing for a long afternoon of looking and not seeing anything, but before I could even open my book, I heard the kitchen door open.

"Trouble in paradise?" Bennett's deep voice filled the room.

"Of course not. I figured I'd read a little while he took his nap." I waved my novel at him.

Bennett was tall and handsome, with perfect, thick blonde hair, and perfect white teeth. He reminded me of a politician. He was so perfect it was manufactured. There was something unsettling after the amount of perfection. After seeing the empty alcohol glasses at breakfast and occasionally hearing him yell at his wife and staff all weekend, I knew the perfect was fake.

"Want some wine? Crime novels are always better with some wine." He winked at me and I forced myself to smile back.

"I think I'm going to have my wine at dinner tonight. I can't wait to see what your chef is serving this time."

"Lamb." He clarified.

"Lamb. That sounds amazing." His smile seemed a little stretched as he nodded.

"Yeah, it will be. I was just about to go get the wine from the wine cellar. It needs to be something special since this is your last night with us."

"I didn't know this place had a wine cellar," I commented.

"It's the length of the house. It's always completely stocked. Would you like to see it?" He gestured to a tiny door I had been curious about since day one.

So the house had a wine cellar. Not one law enforcement agent had set foot in the wine cellar. That was the perfect place to beat a woman senseless and then shoot her and not get caught. Rip the shower curtain from the shower, wrap her up, carry her down, and go back to committing the crime. There'd be very little blood evidence upstairs and he could talk daddy dearest into renovating the upstairs. It would get rid of any evidence in the room and throw off the cops. He could just bleach the floor of the cellar and no one would know because no one knew about it but the people on the payroll.

"I'd love to." I dropped my book and stood up eagerly. He smiled at me as he unlocked the door with one of the keys of his completely filled up keyring.

I had my gun in a holster strapped to my belly if I needed it. I was praying I didn't need it. Brian was right upstairs and I was smart. Bennett might be bigger than me, but he couldn't fight both of us with guns. He also had no reason to suspect us; Brian and I were selling this whole newlywed couple show we were putting on. It was going to be awkward when we went back to the office, but it was working.

"Ladies first." He gestured to the tiny, ancient little wooden door.

"My shoes are so high I get a little unsteady." I pointed to the heeled sandals I had bought in the consignment shop on my way to meet Marcus. "Will you go first in case I fall?"

My phone started ringing in the pocket of my shorts, but I put my hand over it to silence the buzzing. Penning could wait for an update. Hopefully, I'd have something to give him after this.

"Of course." He walked down the narrow, tight little stairs ahead of me.

Gingerly, I picked my way in after him.

Z

It was pitch black when I woke up. My ears were ringing and it felt like I was spinning on a carnival ride. My face scrunched in pain and I realized my hair was glued to my forehead with hot sticky blood.

How could this have happened? I made him walk first so I wouldn't turn my back on him. I couldn't remember how I ended up on the floor, but everything hurt so badly I was willing to bet money that he threw me down the stairs like a ragdoll and I cracked my head on the stone floor.

My phone started to buzz about the time I heard footsteps overhead.

Of course, that wasn't Penning. It was Brian trying to call me.

"Maria, see if you can stall him." I heard him barking orders into his phone.

I forced my eyes open.

There was a light on and it hurt, but I pushed through. He was standing next to a wall of wine bottles. There was one lone, naked bulb hanging from wire overhead. I was outside of its light, so I knew I had to use that to my advantage.

"I don't care what you think! Just make something up." He flipped his phone closed.

Shit. My window of time was closing.

He reached over outside of my line of sight and grabbed a rope.

Shit. I was about to be strangled.

I shoved my hand in my top and started fumbling to get my gun out of its holster. I had it almost all the way out when he turned around and saw me awake and moving.

Fear is always described as icy. I'd always hated that cliche, but when I looked into his eyes I felt it. It felt like ice water spreading through my veins freezing me solid.

He frowned as he stared at me. Then Brian's footsteps started pacing again and it was like it broke him from his trance. With an angry sigh, he wrapped the rope around his hands and lunged for me. If he had taken a second longer to stare at me, he would have noticed the gun. Instead, he had no clue what was coming.

I flipped the gun out of my shirt, flicked off the safety, and fired in one surprisingly smooth motion. The first bullet shattered wine bottles in the wall behind him, but the second hit him square in the chest. His weight landed on top of me, crushing all of the air out of my lungs.

Then I realized I was screaming and that's why there wasn't any air in my lungs.

The ice was replaced by heat, all-encompassing wet heat that soaked into me like a tidal wave. It washed onto my chest, down my stomach, pooling between my breasts and in the hollow of my throat.

Blood. All of that was blood.

"Brian!" I screamed over and over and over. The footsteps above me went frantic and a pounding started at the door above me, which was locked.

There was a splintering sound and more footsteps, and then all of a sudden the weight was gone.

"Anna! Anna! Are you okay?" I could see his face, in clear detail out of a fog. His bright blue eyes were worried.

The sound of sirens started in the distance. I tried to look up the stairs.

"Anna!" Brian grabbed my face and made me look at him.

"I shot somebody," I muttered. "I'm going to be fired."


	15. Control

I can't help this awful energy

God damn right, you should be scared of me

Who is in control?

I'm well acquainted with villains that live in my head

They beg me to write them so they'll never die when I'm dead

Control, Halsey

Z

What happened next passed in an absolute blur like I was watching it happen on fast forward. I had been taken to the hospital where doctors and nurses shined flashlights in my eyes what felt like hundreds of times and kept sending me for brain scans. The second I arrived, they stole my clothes and photographed all of my bruises and left me in a flimsy little hospital gown.

I was expecting Brian to visit me, but instead, my only visitors in my hospital room were FBI higher-ups who outranked even Penning. They asked me hundreds of questions on camera about the shooting and the investigation. At some point, a polished looking woman from the LA FBI office I vaguely remembered seeing in the elevator showed up and acted as my counsel. I hadn't realized I would need a lawyer for this.

I couldn't remember what month it was, or the day of the week, so questioning was difficult. I definitely didn't remember most of what happened in the wine cellar. Embarrassingly enough, I couldn't remember out victim's name. I had felt a rush of shame come over me when I tried to rummage through the back of my brain and find it. She was the reason we had wanted to take this bastard down; she should have been the thing I remembered most.

It must have been three in the morning when they finally finished their questions. They turned off the camera and the older agent stepped out to take a phone call. I was trying to work up the nerve to ask them all to leave when he came back into the room with Penning at his heels.

"It's a good shooting, Beck." He said without preamble as he sat on the plastic hospital chair and pulled my rolling table over to himself.

He flipped open his copy of the homicide file and spread out its contents. I didn't remember it being that thick, but I also didn't remember much of anything else at the moment.

"Our forensics team tore the place apart. They've found blood evidence and evidence of a bullet going down into the floor in the cellar and they've found carpet that was recently pulled up from an office that matches the carpet fiber found on the body. O'Conner's intel on Ross's close relationship with police investigators has led to multiple arrests for obstruction. We've also arrested some of the employees for helping him hide the body. His wife and the housekeeper both gave him up." He stopped flipping through the forensics reports and fixed me in a hard stare. "What happened, Beck?"

"I don't really know. I decided I was going to hang out in the den to see if anything was going on while Brian—um, O'Conner went upstairs to shower before dinner. He approached me and I don't remember what we talked about, but he mentioned a wine cellar. The door was tucked in a corner. I knew it hadn't been searched. He opened the door for me, and I told him to go first because I had heels on, and the stairs were steep. I don't even remember stepping in further than the door. I don't think I was actually planning on going downstairs with him; I just wanted to glance at it and then go back and look later."

I stopped because the memories got really fuzzy after that point. I didn't remember anything at all after stepping into the doorway of that cellar.

"I don't know how I got on the floor, but I blinked, and I was on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. I don't remember him touching me, I don't remember falling, everything just hurt." Penning's mouth pressed into a hard, thin line. "I remember he had a rope in his hands. I remember hearing yelling and footsteps and I remember thinking that he wasn't going to let me be found."

Was I afraid in that moment? I was scared now.

"How many shots did you fire?" The younger higher up FBI man asked. He'd asked this question multiple times before. I had asked his name at least four times and I knew I couldn't do it again, but I couldn't remember it to save my life.

"Wine bottles broke, so I missed at least once." Frustration rose and I shook my head. "I think it was at least three, but I don't know."

"It was three." He wrote something on his notepad.

"Am I being fired?" I asked him. He sighed deeply.

"No." His answer was short and annoyed.

"Administrative leave. Paid leave." The woman patted my hand.

She was beautiful like a model and probably ten years older than me. I was guessing the gesture was supposed to be motherly, but there was nothing motherly about her and it pissed me off.

"Like a broken record, Penning." The man muttered, looking sideways at my boss. "I haven't seen this much short-term memory loss since my kid made me watch Nemo."

"You can't come back to work until you've been medically cleared and attended mandatory therapy." Penning told me firmly.

The man tore a page out of his notebook and slid it to me. It contained a list of questions and answers. Apparently I had been a broken record throughout our conversation. I didn't remember asking any of these questions, but it was all stuff I wanted to know. I looked quizzically at the woman.

"It's okay. You've hit your head. It'll get better soon." She smiled at me with perfectly painted lips. Whose lipstick looked that good at three in the morning? I glanced at Penning.

"Get well soon, Beck. We got him."

Z

Going home wasn't better.

I was in a fog. When I was asleep, I was dreaming of the feeling of blood pooling in the hollows of my clavicle, soaking every inch of my shirt, and feeling that oppressive weight on my upper body. When I was awake, I was panicking because of the black holes in my memory and the fact that I killed somebody.

I wasn't dealing at all.

That's not what I told the therapist though. Or Brian and Lisa. Or Penning when he called to offer me case updates.

I didn't need those updates; I had become obsessed with stalking the news stories for any new information.

The news broke with a sympathetic slant towards Ross, which made me feel a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach I couldn't find the words for later that day at my appointment. It got heavier with every picture shown of the ex-college linebacker posing with his golden retriever. There was vitriol against the police shooting. He was going to run for Congress like his dad. He was planning on adopting children with his wife. He volunteered with old people. I vomited more than once watching the news stories and reading the hateful comments being left.

Soon, the forensic evidence came back definitively naming him as the murderer and the tone turned towards disbelief. Then the media descended on him like rabid wolves. Mrs. Ross was releasing statements talking about what it was like to finally be free from the abuse. Hayley Daniel's children were talking to reporters about what it meant to finally have closure. She got her day in the light. This was a victory, so why couldn't I stop the nausea clawing at my stomach?

I didn't go out anymore. I sat on my couch turning over the keys to my new Maverick over in my hands, but I couldn't find the energy to get out and go for a drive. Brian couldn't even entice me out with promises of making it faster. He and Lisa still visited, and I was grateful, but I could feel the pity rolling off of both of them.

Lisa had cried when I opened the door in a tank top and my bruises from every stair I knocked on the way down were on full display. She went into full mom mode trying to fuss over every little injury. She kept telling me she was afraid for me and I was scaring her with the detached way I seemed to be handling it. I had laughed, assured her I was fine and sent her home with a fake smile.

Brian kept offering apology after apology for not getting there faster, for not letting me know we were compromised faster, for not doing enough. I vaguely remembered him holding me on the cellar floor while I was as limp as a dishrag muttering the same apologies. He had yet to answer what he could have done differently, and I got tired of watching him blame himself.

I didn't need them there, because I was doing that all myself. I was crying every time I looked at the purple and black splotches when I got out of the shower. I cried especially hard them I found one shaped like a handprint where he apparently grabbed me on my upper arm. The FBI told me they thought that was how he threw me down the stairs onto my head. There was one on my neck I did not remember and could not explain that sent me into a full panic attack; I almost died. He was going to kill me.

Brian couldn't have done anything else. He tried to warn me. He tried to find me. There was one way out of it, and it involved me shooting Bennett Ross. I'd never taken a life before, and I never wanted to do it again. I never wanted to feel like this again.

I felt trapped. My head was underwater, and I was drowning, and I was having to smile for everyone else. I'd been here before. I'd felt this helpless once and I swore I'd never let myself feel it again. I hadn't; I hadn't felt like this since I was a child thrown in foster care after my parents' murder. I never let things get out of control. I swore I'd never feel like this again. I swore I'd never be this helpless.

For the third time that morning, I burst into tears; choking, uncontrollable sobs that hurt.

I had to get out. I had to get out of this apartment. The walls were closing in on me and I couldn't take my own thoughts anymore. I snatched the keys out the bowl on the kitchen counter and grabbed my purse. I made it to the door when I finally stopped to think.

The beach wasn't far enough. I couldn't get away from this if I was an hour from home.

I forced myself to breathe. I knew what I had to do.

Z

"So, I for sure have paid leave for the next two months?" I asked Penning over the phone as I leaned into the huge window.

"Yes." He sounded impatient.

"Perfect." I tried to sound bright, but it came out flat. I didn't care.

"What is this about?" His impatience morphed into suspicion.

"I got a good deal on a vacation and I took it." I blurted. There was no point in beating around the bush. Penning was astute. He knew my leave was going badly. I might be on desk duty for a year for my inability to handle my feelings, but I didn't care.

"Good for you." He finally said after a pregnant pause. I breathed my first sigh of relief in a month.

They called my flight over the airport intercom and the people sitting in the terminal started standing to board.

"Thank you, sir. See you when I get back." I hung up before he could ask when that was because I sure as shit didn't know.

Z

Sayulita, Mexico.

I'd never heard of it before I bought my one-way plane ticket. I wasn't sure what was waiting for me, but to be honest, I didn't care.

I felt like I had grabbed the steering wheel and wrestled control away from my demons.

I needed this.

I needed the summer heat that made my sundress stick to my sweaty back. I needed the smell and sound of the huge waves crashing onto the shore dotted with surfers. I needed the mojito that I sipped while I watched the sunset from the terrace of the bustling local restaurant with authentic food. I needed the colors and the life of this little town. I needed out of stuffy suits, and cold offices, and judging good ol' boy coworkers that were waiting for me to fail.

Most of all, I needed out of my own head.

The hanging lights of the bar terrace switched on above my head as the last rays of the hidden sun disappeared from the sky replaced with a dark carpet of stars. Laughter floated over from the tables of people still eating. The band was warming up to start their set.

I finally tore my eyes away from the ocean. I leaned back on the railing and turned to people watch. Everyone looked so happy here.

I was crazy for doing this; for traveling here alone and with no warning or planning. I'd shoved three changes of clothes in a carry-on, picked up my passport, and left. Watching the people around me, though, I felt free; really and truly free.

AN: I tried to write in her first glance of the team, but it felt super wrong, so I pulled cut it all out. Next chapter.

Also one of these days I'm going to not write this story wine drunk at 4 AM and just post the first draft. There are a few places in the previous chapters I really want to flesh out and write more of. Are there any parts you want more of or that you didn't like?


	16. Let Me Be Myself

I guess I just got lost

Being someone else.

I tried to kill the pain,

But nothing ever helped.

I left myself behind,

Somewhere along the way

Hoping to come back around

To find myself someday

Let Me Be Myself, 3 Doors Down

Z

The hot breeze off the ocean carried the smell of salt. My villa was just close enough to the town that I thought I could hear the sound of voices and laughter carrying in with the wind, but the crash of every wave hitting the shore drowned it out. The sounds and the smells of the new place were lulling me to sleep where I sat stretched out on the beach chair.

My eyelids were heavy and I was warm and comfortable, but I knew there was something important I needed to before I went to sleep. I picked up my phone and dialed Brian's number.

"Where are you?" He answered on the third ring without a greeting.

"In Mexico," I answered.

"Mexico?" I was about to tell him the town, but his outburst cut me off. He did not sound happy at all.

"I'm fine, Brian. Really, truly fine." I told my friend, trying to soothe his worry. I knew it wouldn't help.

"Are you sure? Because this isn't what people that are fine do!" I felt the frustration in his voice.

"I found a cheap deal on a nice villa and cheap flights. The prices went up after that day, and I had the money and the time to go, so I did. I'm so glad I did it, Brian. I was tired of being trapped in my apartment. I was too afraid of the media circus going on to really get out. I felt like they were about to blast my picture all over the news and ruin my career of undercover work before it started."

I was pleading with him to trust me. I hadn't thought about scaring him and Lisa, but apparently that was exactly what had ended up happened.

"Don't you think you should have talked to someone about feeling like that?" The exasperation sunk into his voice.

"I mean, no." I lied. I had thought about telling them so many times, but I couldn't find it in myself to drop that facade. They would have helped me. They would have been there for me, but I shoved them away. "I needed to get out of LA. I've been wanting to go on a vacation for a long time, and I had three months off. I took the first month to do all my paperwork, but I'm taking the second two for me."

"You've been in LA for _four_ months and you needed a vacation!" Brian roared incredulously.

"Five and I hated it." I corrected. "I need this time for me. I'm going to come back a better person from this. I've never stepped out of my box, stepped out of my plan, and I need to do this."

Brian was silent on the other end. He finally sighed.

"Where in Mexico?"

"Sayulita. Smaller surfing town. It's so beautiful. It's safe too."

Not for the first time talking to Brian, I felt insanely guilty. I should have told him about this impromptu run for the border long before now. I probably should have called him before Penning. I also should have been a little more gracious about accepting help, but sitting around talking about it didn't fix anything.

Or maybe it could. _Treat them like they're people._

"Look, I know I don't talk about things, but I really struggled when I was young, and I didn't have anyone to turn to and I didn't have one I could trust and I was all alone and-" I trailed off, biting my lip. Opening up was hard. "I felt helpless all of the time. Like there was nothing I could do to control anything, so I went the other way, where I tried to control everything."

I waited to see if Brian was going to try to say something, but he kept silent. I knew I needed to keep talking. It was too late to stop now. Brian had been telling me I had to open up to actually make relationships work, and apparently now was the time.

"When this happened, and I couldn't remember anything for a while, I panicked and went right back to being helpless and I kind of spiraled. I feel like I shut down and all of that anxiety came back and I couldn't control it anymore, so I did something that I could control. I took a step back."

"You don't think you could have told us this in LA? Did you think we wouldn't understand?" His voice wasn't harsh and the questions were gentle. I felt the tears spring up to my eyes.

"Like in my head, I know you would have understood, but I couldn't handle it. So I got on a plane to Mexico. I realize it's not an effective coping mechanism for most people, but right now it's helping so much. I can focus on getting past this." I paused a beat. "I'm sorry, Brian. I owe you and Lisa an apology. I know I do, but I also know I need to do this. I'm going to break if I don't."

He let out a humorless little laugh. "We've talked about this a bunch."

"We have, and now I believe you. I've wanted to have this job for so long, and now I have it and I hate almost every second of it. I don't think my dream was the wrong thing, I just think I lost myself trying to chase it. You were right. You're always right."

"I just don't know what to do with this." He finally answered. Apparently me showing feelings was a little much for Brian right now.

"No one does. No one is ever prepared for me and there will never be another like me." I tried to push the confident facade up, but it was shattered now and we both knew it.

"You have to check-in. Daily." He went back to dad Brian.

"Every day. You're going to be so jealous when you hear about the fun I'm having." I told him as the tears started to fall.

"I'll take care of your car and your apartment for you. I'll have that Maverick running as good as new when you come back." He promised.

"Thank you. I'll see you when I get back." He huffed.

"Bye, Anna. Don't do anything stupid."

"Bye. I'll call tomorrow." He hung up.

Of course, Brian would understand. Didn't he do this himself when he handed Toretto the keys and headed off to Miami?

I laid listening to the waves hitting the sand. Now I was sure I could hear the sounds of a distant beach party getting louder in between the sound of the waves. After that call, I was wide awake. I felt restless deep in my bones.

Determined to spend my first night in Sayulita doing something other than feeling sorry for myself, I pried myself up off the beach chair. Time to get dressed.

I wasn't here for self-pity. I was here to break myself out of the box I'd shoved myself in. I wasn't a cop trying to claw my way up the ladder tonight; I was someone young and with some other passion in life that wasn't work. I was going to go out on that town and raise absolute hell tonight. I'd been too prim and proper and under control for so long; now was my chance to let loose before I went back to being a stiff, suit-wearing cop.

Z

The bar was crowded when I got there. The party had spilled out into a courtyard lit by string lights and a few lanterns. The music was lively, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the laughter of the patrons. I felt my mood lift as soon as I stepped into the crowd. The energy of the place fed into my tired body and I found myself smiling by the time I made it to the bar.

"Can I get a margarita on the rocks?" I asked in heavily accented Spanish. I'd been practicing even before this trip, but I was still bad.

A rapid string of words came out of the bartender's mouth in response. When I looked confused, the man laughed.

"Salt on the rim?" He clarified. I found myself laughing as I nodded. "Good for you for at least trying."

"Thanks. I'm hoping I'll get better soon." I replied as I took the offered drink and slid him some money. He winked at me before moving on to the next person.

I started sipping as I moved through the crowds. I was hoping I would hear a little English being spoken, but it had seemed I wandered into a local bar by mistake. I had hoped I would meet some nice ex-pats or a group on vacation to do things with. It was a stupid thought, but I wasn't sure I could handle being completely on my own for the whole two months. Starting to feel self-conscious for the first time, I started wandering around looking for a table or an empty chair.

When I didn't find one, I was about to down my drink and leave to find a more spring breakish club when I finally heard something being said in English. Not wanting to seem creepy to the group sitting on at a table, I found a spot on the wall nearby and downed my drink. Normally I'd strut my way into their circle and introduce myself, but I was having trouble finding my courage. I was hoping a little liquid courage would help.

The man facing away from me was bald, but the man facing me had a thick head of long dark hair spilling onto his collar, but gelled on the sides. I was glancing around to see if there was any other group I could try to buddy up to when the man looked up and caught my eye.

He was nice looking, Asian, about my age. A smirk hit his full lips the second we made eye contact and I felt a blush creeping up my face as I returned it with a smile. He broke eye contact to look at his companion and I took that opportunity to take a few deep breaths.

It had been a while since I'd flirted with anyone. The closest I'd been to a guy in months was when I kept waking up tangled with Brian in that honeymoon suite bed, but that hardly counted. Right? It didn't count when you were asleep.

"I'm going to grab another drink, Dom." The Asian man told his companion.

_Wait, what? _I thought as he stood up.

The bald man turned his head to see exactly where his friend was going, and light lit up his profile. There was no mistaking it: I had wandered into the same Mexican bar as Dominic Toretto.

And most worrisome of all, his friend was heading directly towards me.


	17. My Oh My

He was onto me, one look and I couldn't breathe

Yeah, I said, "If you kiss me

I might let it happen"

I swear on my life that I've been a good girl

Tonight, I don't wanna be her

My Oh My, Camila Cabello

Z

Time slowed down like in an eighties movie.

He was making direct eye contact with me. There was no mistaking where he was looking, even in the full bar. There was nowhere for me to go.

Unsure of what else to do, I didn't break eye contact and downed every last drop of liquid in my cup. Might as well get the confidence boost from the tequila.

He wasn't unattractive by any stretch; if fact it was quite the opposite. He was about Brian's height, but he didn't have Brian's runner build. He was broad at the shoulders, clearly muscular through his arms and chest. It was showing up under his purple button up. I was quite a fan of guys built like that. His skin was perfect and tanned and he had a nice strong jaw and smirking full lips.

I felt myself flushing from the alcohol and, if I was being honest, another feeling entirely.

"Hi." I greeted lamely when he got to me, unsure of what else I was supposed to do in this situation.

"You seem to need another drink." He tapped the empty cup in my hand without breaking eye contact.

I'd seen Brian try to flirt like that once, with intense eye contact, and I'd always wondered how girls didn't find it creepy. I'd always chalked it up to his baby blues being a tractor beam of hotness. I couldn't blame this working on this guy's blue eyes because his eyes were a beautiful, intelligent dark brown, but it was working all the same.

"California?" I asked him without skipping a beat. His eyebrows went up and he nodded.

"Was it my surfer boy charm that gave it away?" He asked sarcastically. I shrugged.

"Lucky guess," I replied, smiling nervously. I had to fight to keep from touching my hair. That was always my go-to distraction when I got uncomfortable in social situations.

It wasn't really that lucky of a guess, especially since Dom came from California.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He asked with a smile.

"Sure," I replied. I caught myself right as my finger wrapped around the end of my hair.

I could feel the flush spreading up my face and I had to look away. Unfortunately, I ended up making eye contact with a smiling Dominic Toretto. He shook his head at his friend's flirting, and turned back around to his own beer.

"Is it going to bother your friend that I'm stealing you?" I asked in an attempt at boldness. I cringed internally, thinking I'd gone too far or said the wrong thing when the man chuckled. "I'm guessing that means he's used to it."

He smiled at my teasing and I found a smile pulling at my own lips. His arm wrapped around my lower back as he gently led me to the bar. I had to fight the urge to bristle at the sudden contact; that had been the first time a guy other than Brian and the medical staff had touched me since the incident. The pressure of the hand left my back instantly and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"What brings you to Mexico?" I asked to clear the air. He shrugged, waving at the bartender for another round. Everything about his movements screamed casual local. Expat maybe? Just because he knew Toretto didn't mean he was also a criminal.

"A run for the border never hurt anybody." He answered amicably and accurately, torpedoing my not a criminal theory. The bartender shoved our drinks to the end of the bar. I set my empty glass on the bar and he slid me my full one. "What about you?"

"I hated California." I shrugged taking a huge sip. The sweet lime juice and sugar and the strong bite of tequila were a little too much, but that didn't stop me. I was pretty sure the bartender doubled the tequila in this one.

"You're not that far away." He commented as I followed him over to a two-top table that was opening up. We sat down when the other couple left.

"No. I'm not far enough. I considered Alaska to get some more distance, but that much snow just isn't for me, so here I am." I joked.

"Where else was on your list of places to get away from California?" He asked, taking a swig of his beer.

"I don't know. I haven't traveled much. This time, I just decided to pick a place and go. You don't live forever, so you might as well enjoy life while you're here. What about you?"

"I've never been east of the Atlantic." He answered.

"Do you want to?"

"Doesn't everybody?" His words were evasive, but his posture remained so casual and amicable without a trace of arrogance. Despite myself, I was getting curious. He held his cards close to the chest, and I liked that in a man. I hated guys that led with their life story. I'd rather pry it from them detail by detail.

The conversation stalled a little, and I began to feel intensely awkward. I didn't flirt much normally. I had gotten so used to knowing Marcus and what worked that I wasn't sure what to do anymore. Marcus was easy; normally I just walked in whatever room he was in naked. That wouldn't work here. Being naked at the bar would make things even more awkward.

I took a big swig of tequila to try to stop the overthinking.

I wasn't ready for this. I needed to get out of here. I had to get out of here. I couldn't be here with Dominic Toretto. I was a fucking FBI agent. This place wasn't for me. Sexy mysterious outlaws were not good choices.

I was about to make my excuses and leave, which I should have done, but I heard a laugh. It was a deep throaty laugh that carried through the bar over the sound of the people and the music. Honestly, the woman sounded like a lot of fun. My attention was drawn to a brunette with wavy brown hair and crooked smile cutting through the crowd with two beers passing our table. The crowd was parting for her like she owned the place, and with her swagger, I wasn't going to be surprised if she did.

"Letty." My companion said suddenly. Torn from my thoughts, I jerked my head back to him. He pointed towards the woman with his beer. She shot him a knowing smirk as she moved over towards Toretto's table and the seat that my companion had just vacated.

Of course it was. I thought bitterly.

"She seems fun." I finally said to break the silence. I was afraid it would sound bitchy and jealous, but I genuinely meant it. Anyone that would jump from a car onto a semi-truck and hijack it was probably a party.

"How long has it been since you've had fun?" His voice was flat and even without the teasing tone he had earlier. He was actually seriously asking me.

"I don't know. I guess that's why I came to Mexico." I answered honestly.

I tried to make it less pathetic with a laugh, but I was feeling drunk and I wasn't sure how great of an actress I was. It didn't help that this guy seemed to be stupidly perceptive. He seemed to be drinking everything in in a way that was frankly off-putting. I'd caught him staring at my cleavage a time or two and honestly, I was more comfortable with that than the way his eyes were searching my face.

"Maybe I can show you some fun while you're here." He pressed on with that flirty smile.

"I don't know. I'm not that easy to impress." I informed him and instantly cringed.

Brian had been informing me that my intensity was a massive turn off, but this guy leaned into it. Literally. I could feel the amusement radiating off of him as he propped up on his elbows on the tabletop with his beer held carelessly in one hand. He stared me down across the table like I was the only person in the room. I got a big deep breath of his cologne and I found myself leaning in like he was pulling me with a string.

"I've always liked a challenge." His voice sent a shiver down my spine and made my heart hammer in my chest.

I needed to get out of here fast. The alcohol was going straight to my brain and I was not going to be much of a challenge if I had anymore. I couldn't be here. He was a member of Dominic Toretto's team. I was going to murder my career if anyone found out I was talking to him and didn't report it.

A smirk pulled at his full lips again.

Fuck my career. It wasn't doing much for me right now; I might as well have a little fun.

"I'm Han." He finally said.

In that moment, I realized why being undercover could be so much fun. I was in a bar far from home with known criminals that didn't know me or my story. I could be whoever I wanted to be. That uptight, ambitious career woman? Gone. I was now someone who could relax, who didn't have every second planned, and did things because she wanted to, not because it led towards a greater goal. I wasn't a woman running from her problems. I was now a woman taking control of her life by deciding to seize the day and live.

"I'm Anna."

"Anna." He said my name experimentally and I felt my face flush again. "What do you say we get out of here?"

A laugh bubbled up in my throat. I couldn't do that. I might be able to pretend to be a new person to be while I was on vacation, but I was still a damn FBI agent. He was lucky I wasn't calling Penning from the bathroom.

Right?

If Han was sensing my hesitation, he didn't let it bother him. His eyes drifted back to my cleavage and then back up to my face. His lopsided smile showed even more of his perfect white teeth.

Oh God, I'm in trouble.

Z

I have lost my damn mind.

Han's arms were snuggly around my waist as we made out against my villa door. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the fact that I was starting to really think about what could happen once we were inside, but either way, I was enjoying the feeling. I felt giddy for the first time in a long time. Butterflies were gnawing at my stomach, and my heart was hammering in my chest.

It was probably the alcohol. It definitely wasn't intelligent thought that was making me feel this way.

When he asked me if I wanted to leave, I had promptly informed him that I was going home alone tonight, even though my head immediately went to the possibility of going home together. Nonplussed, he shrugged and told me the least he could do was drive me home.

He was confident, not the least bit deterred, and I liked it. I guess that's why I let him lead me away from the bar.

If I were sober, I probably would have been terrified, but I was excited by the possibility of sex and pretty comfortable in the knowledge that Toretto's crew was known for thievery. He seemed to keep them in line with everything else. Brian had even told me as much on the rare times I could pry something about Toretto out of him.

Han had waved goodbye to Toretto, who was thoroughly engrossed in a conversation with Letty. He was staring at her like she was the sun, and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of man he actually was. He wasn't at all what I had pictured him to be, even with my extensive study into every scrap of FBI information on him.

I forgot about Dom as soon as we got in Han's pristine grey Plymouth Road Runner and made the trip home. I had a lot of other things to think about once his hand started sliding up my thigh on the beach road in the moonlight. The fact that we weren't in the back seat was kind of a miracle.

"So, what are we doing tomorrow?" I asked against his mouth in between kisses.

His mouth migrated up my jaw, planting kisses the entire way. My knees went weak, and he took advantage. He pulled me even closer and started sliding one of his hands up my back.

"I thought I'd make you breakfast." He murmured softly.

I chuckled, about to tell him to get lost for the night when that hand started moving again, migrating around to the front of my dress, and slowly moving up onto my breast. He knew what he was doing with his hands. His mouth went back to my neck.

"Holy fuck." I accidentally said out loud. He moved at an almost lazy speed like we had all the time in the world. He was clearly feeling me out, watching my reaction to everything, and it was all working. It was driving me crazy.

"Still going home alone?" He asked. My racing heart managed to pick up speed.

Was I? Because the only thing between us and the bed was the door.

"Breakfast, huh?" I asked saucily.

It was apparently the cue he'd been waiting for because his grip around my waist tightened, and his lips crashed back onto my mouth. I let him for a second before I pulled away.

"Where am I meeting you?" I asked breathlessly in what I hoped was a coy fashion. Really, I was flushed and out of air and desperate to get back to what we were doing, but this time on the other side of the door.

His eyebrows up, before his smirk returned. He liked the game. So did I. I could wait.

"I'll pick you up?" He offered, sneaking in a few more kisses.

"Not before nine," I whispered before kissing him one last time. I let my teeth catch his lips as I broke it off to open my villa door.

"Good night, Anna." He called. He looked so good standing there with his thick, dark hair messed up from my fingers.

"Good night!" I yelled over my shoulder before I let the door close behind me.

I took a second to catch my breath, waiting until I heard the engine of the Road Runner turn over. The roar slowly faded away in the distance.

The last time I had been this breathless was when I had a panic attack on my first day home in the shower because I slipped a little on the bottom of the slick tub. Apparently, my body still remembered being thrown down the stairs because that millisecond of feeling like I might fall triggered ten minutes of sobbing and not being able to feel my limbs,

I frowned as I kicked off my shoes.

I was struggling to remember what it felt like to be strong and confident. All I could remember were the days of being a terrified and lonely little kid. I couldn't remember the good in life very well right now.

The good news was, for the moment, none of that existed because I was a new person in Mexico. I could be whoever I wanted here. New place, new start. I'd worry about the details late.

I pulled my dress off over my head and tossed it over a chair in the corner of the bedroom before crawling under the covers. The sheets had that crisp, overly starched feeling of hotel sheets that I hated, but I didn't think it was going to bother me.

I was too tired to dream, which was something that I needed. I also had a feeling this date was something I needed. It was time to live again.


	18. Liar

I said I won't lose control, I don't want it (ooh)

I said I won't get too close, but I can't stop it

Oh no, there you go, making me a liar

Got me begging you for more

Oh no, there I go, startin' up a fire

Liar, Camila Cabello

Z

"So I have a date." I started the phone call without any kind of greeting.

"A date?" Brian asked incredulously.

_Yes. With your archnemesis's buddy._

"Yeah. Expat that moved down here a few years ago." I fluffed my hair for the hundredth time.

Since I only shoved three changes of clothes in a bag before I got on the plane, I had to go shopping today. I had on a loose blue button-up shirt and shorts with a bikini top as a bra and bottoms in place of the undies I didn't bring. I was hoping that it would look good against my green eyes, but I was sure I looked sloppy. When I went shopping I was going to find a dress that actually sexy like the women at the bar were wearing last night. Brian would probably approve of none of this, but Lisa would be all in for it.

"Anna." Brian cut himself off and I could hear the wheels turning in his head.

"You're worried about me. You're worried this is another sign of me not coping." I filled in the blanks.

"Absolutely."

Was he right? Yes. I had nightmares of being murdered and dead bodies all night until I went for an early morning run on the beach as the sun was coming up. I had also stupidly been reading a Stephen King novel that I bought at the airport, so it was hard to tell why that happened. All I knew was I didn't feel trapped here like I did in my tiny apartment. I felt like I could breathe.

"I'm not making reckless decisions." If you took away the fact that Han was probably an internationally wanted felon than I actually wasn't. He had been a perfect gentleman last night. He didn't push. He backed off when I told him too. I was kind of wishing I let him in last night.

"This whole thing is one big reckless decision." He deadpanned.

"And I feel alive for the first time in forever," I replied as I pulled my sandals out of my bag.

"I understand that, but do you know what you're doing?"

Did I know? I had an opportunity here. One that would never present itself again in my career. I could be the one that finally brought in Dominic Toretto. I would be famous and I would have my pick of whatever case I wanted. That was better than Brian's infamy for the opposite. I was

On the other hand, I didn't want to think about work. I wanted to be someone new and different and have a good time on the beach without any responsibility. Technically, if I was a good undercover cop I could do both. Honestly, the thought of being an undercover agent had soured immensely. I wanted to be someone else, but I didn't want to be someone else while I was doing that.

A horn sounded in the driveway.

"I know. He's here so I have to go." I thought for a second. "And I do know what I am doing."

I had decided; I was going to go with the flow and decide to either turn them in or keep their secrets later. Hell, I might not even have any contact with Torretto. I might see his friend for a few days and that might be the end of it. Either way, I had a feeling it was going to break Brian's heart when he found out I knew where they were.

"Be careful." He warned. "What's his name?" I laughed humorously.

"You aren't running him. Goodbye, Brian. I'm late and I'm gonna be fine." I hung up before I could catch any more of his mothering.

The heat outside the villa was stifling despite the fact that it was only a quarter after nine in the morning. It didn't seem to affect Han though. He was leaning against the passenger door of his Road Runner, casually smoking a cigarette. He was wearing loose khakis and a button-up shirt without anything underneath it. It was already sticking to him from the heat.

I should have felt anything, but I felt a flutter in my chest when I looked at him.

I could do this. I could keep my head. I just had to be careful and keep him at an arm's length.

"Morning." I greeted as I approached the car.

"Morning." He half-smiled as he popped open the passenger side door, holding it open for me to get in. He shut the door behind me. I squirmed against the scalding black leather seats. Han noticed when he got in the driver's seat.

"Sorry." He apologized as he tossed out his cigarette. The engine roared to life at a volume that definitely meant it was heavily modified. He cranked up the air conditioner and knocked a vent in my direction.

"So how often do you race?" I blurted without thinking.

He was reaching to put the car in gear, but his hand froze on the shifter. He looked at me with a new curiosity. I felt nervous thrum in my chest when I met his eyes.

I hadn't been with someone that made me nervous like this in a long time. It was first date butterflies mixed with something else entirely.

"I race when it's important." He answered slowly. He backed the car out of the driveway without looking away from me.

Despite my constant car sickness with Brian, I had yet to get nauseated with Han driving. He was a much smoother driver with no erratic turns, hard stops, or sudden acceleration. I felt like I should be able to relax. I wasn't though.

"Where are you taking me?" It was meant to be flirty, but it sounded accusatory. There was tension in the corner of his mouth, and I knew he caught it. "Sorry. I'm honestly a little nervous without the tequila."

"Then I'm guessing breakfast mimosas aren't out of the questions?" He teased.

"I might stay sober enough to attempt surfing." Surfing? What the fuck. I had daydreamed about trying it while I was drunk and staring at a Spanish brochure I couldn't read last night, but that wasn't a good impulsive first date activity. I was going to make a fool of myself on day one.

"You surf?" He asked, he looked away from me to make a turn onto the main road and I was glad because it gave me a second to exhale.

"No, but I figured I'm in Mexico, I might as well try some things," I answered. Did that make me sound desperate? I felt desperate saying that.

"First time in Sayulita?"

"Yes. I'm excited to explore a little. The airline lost my bag, so I don't have much a choice but to walk around and do some shopping today." I lied smoothly so maybe I would seem like less of a psycho when he realized I had only packed two shirts, a dress, a pair of shorts, and a bathing suit. I didn't even pack panties. "How long have you been here?"

"Couple weeks." He pulled down a side road before smoothly pulling into a parking space. "I've always liked Sayulita."

"Where do you live when you're not here?" I was expecting a roundabout answer, but I wasn't expecting a straight-up shrug.

"Come on. This place has the best breakfast in town."

Z

Was it bad to be jealous of a criminal? Han was the most relaxed free spirit I'd met in a long time. He stayed laid back in his chair the entire meal, lazily munching on his breakfast sandwich without a care in the world. Meanwhile, my anxiety went through the roof with no warning when we sat down to order.

With the way kept a constant scan of everything going on, I knew he knew. He didn't acknowledge it and rolled with all of my awkward questions and behaviors. I was flustered for no damn reason. Well, maybe not for no damn reason.

I hadn't been on a date in almost a year. Towards the end of my relationship with Marcus, we were fighting so much he made no effort to take me out, so I couldn't even say I'd been on a date with him. I had spent most of my time doing interrogations, and unfortunately, it was showing.

Han was amazing at dodging questions. He played everything close to the chest, answering everything breezily and without giving any real information. I caught myself pushing harder. Surprisingly, I did manage to get him to slip up once.

He left for Mexico immediately after high school. The implication was that something happened right before. I also learned the name of his hometown in a sterile California suburb that I had filed away for later.

Getting into his life was fun until he turned it back on me. I lied as much as I could, but at some point, I realized I could only create so much of a new identity. Then some truths started to slip out. When I'd had as much as I could take, I simply smiled and reminded him that I need to replace some clothes when he started his questions. I was not prepared for him to shrug, pay the bill, and offer to take me.

"Isn't this going to be boring for you?" I asked as we made our way back to his Road Runner. He took a long drag on his cigarette before he answered.

"You're not a girl that likes to shop." He said firmly. I was slightly taken aback. "That's a work shirt that you're wearing now and your shorts have been around a while. The shoes are new though."

He was correct; as usual.

"What else have you noticed?" I asked him as I reached for the passenger door.

Han had a bunch of minute changes in his face that signaled he what he was thinking and feeling. He wasn't blank; you could feel the good-natured, laid back energy rolling off of him, but he didn't let you in. He was happy and having a good time, but there was a wariness to him that hadn't dropped.

"You're impulsive, but this seems like a new thing for you." He smiled, but there was something else there.

"What makes you think it's new?" I asked as we settled back into the car and the scalding hot seats. He reached across and fingered the rolled-up sleeve of my button-up shirt.

"When you asked me about what to do in town. There was nothing go-with-the-flow about any of those questions." Maybe attempting to decide on a schedule for my vacation was a dead give away.

"Sometimes stepping off that ledge into the unknown is the only way to live," I answered quickly before he could say anything else. He started the car without an answer, but I could tell from the look in his eye that he understood.

Z

The wind pulled at the hem of my shirt. The sun had long set in the distance and the sand was getting cold. I had to change and leave to meet Han for a drink, but I couldn't make myself move away from the edge of the waves.

It had been a good day. We had shifted away from constant questioning in the afternoon and settled into a companionable silence with light-hearted chatter. The word vomit that had been pouring out of my mouth had stopped and I became less awkward the more we were together. My favorite part was when Han told me about all of the places he had seen in Central and South America. I had booked my villa for two weeks out of my two month leave in case I wanted to go home early, but now I was considering picked another place at random and going.

When I was home alone in my villa, the thoughts of why I was here started settling in. This was a distraction, a fantasy. I had to go home at the end of it. I had to go face review board and be interviewed by countless superiors. I had to go to therapy appointment after therapy appointment to make up for the ones I was missing being here. I had to go back home alone.

The thought of being alone was crushing me. The walls of my apartment kept getting smaller and smaller in on me and I'd have to go back to that, day in and day out. My only escape would be going back to a sterile gray office where my coworkers hated me and my career was being stunted by being "the guy who blew up his first undercover assignment by letting his mark go's trainee who couldn't follow orders and bent up an LAPD Charger". I'd never escape that reputation while I still lived in LA.

A crunch of sand behind me startled me out of my reverie.

I turned, ready to fight, but I found myself face to face with Han. His eyebrows shot up, but he didn't say anything. I felt my face heat up with a deep blush.

"Sorry. I lost track of time." I turned back to the ocean to hide my blush. "I've always loved the beach at night."

False. If I was on the beach at night, it was a bad day. I went to the beach at night to hide from my problems. Sometimes, when the problems got big enough, I even hopped on planes to other countries to stare at the ocean on beaches there.

I felt his body heat against my back as his strong arms wrapped around my waist. The same fire I had felt last night started creeping back. That was the good thing about this fantasy; I didn't go to bed alone in it.

"Are you still sticking to the claim that you're hard to impress?" He whispered in my ear.

"What did you have in mind?"

Z

The music from the cars came together into one loud, glorious cacophony. The rows of cars were just as pristine as Han's Road Runner. Their owners stood around beside their rides, drinking beer, pointing out new additions to their cars, and staring at the girls in tiny skirts. And of course, there were the racers, tearing down a quarter-mile strip of beach road so fast that my hair was whipped around my head every time they drove past.

I was in heaven.

I felt Han's watchful gaze on my back as I darted between the cars. I knew the makes and models from all of my research, but I hadn't started learning the engines yet. All I could tell from looking at them as I went down the line was that most of the mods were illegal and every engine was spotlessly clean.

I was turning to say something to Han when I caught a glance of a red Chevelle over his shoulder parked on the outskirts of everything. A cherry red Chevelle had always been my dream. This one was even more glorious in person.

He glanced between me and the car for a second before he stepped out of the way like he was giving me permission. As I approached it, I didn't see the owner. I took a second to run a finger down the smooth side of the car, stopping when I got to the door handle.

"I've always wanted a red Chevelle," I told Han without looking away from the car. I could feel the amusement radiating off of him.

"It's a good car." He fished his cigarettes out of his pocket.

"This whole just-cut-back thing isn't working for you. If you really want to quit, you're going to have to find something else for your hands and mouth to do," I told him as I ran my fingers over the door handle, tracing a pattern over it. I wanted to pop open the door and look inside so badly.

Han's movement stopped. I glanced at him to see the boyish grin spread over his face. I raised my eyebrows at him playfully.

"I can think of a few things." I doubled down with a laugh.

"Nothing he hasn't thought of already." A throaty, sarcastic voice intoned from behind me. My face instantly went bright red. "Han, where have you been?"

He shot me one last smug look before his eyes settled on someone standing behind me.

"I've been around, Letty." He answered.

Letty. Leticia Ortiz. Latina female, approximately five-foot-five inches. Brunette. Dominic Toretto's childhood sweetheart. Career criminal I spotted at a bar last night and didn't report. This was Letty's car.

"Tell me something I don't know." She mumbled.

Unable to help myself, I snorted at her humor. I forced myself to turn and face her. At the last second, I remembered to pull my hand off the driver's side door.

She was about an inch taller than me. She looked older than the pictures tucked in the FBI file, but she wore it really well. A bright smile was spread across her makeup-less face. Her dark hair was hanging in a ponytail over her shoulders and her bangs were blowing in the breeze. She wasn't dressed like the other women, with short shorts and a tank top over a bikini top, and she radiated confidence that I was instantly jealous of. All of my confidence was normally either fake or pure arrogance. Hers was just natural self-assuredness.

"Is the Chevelle yours?" I asked her politely. She looked me up and down and I felt her appraising me. I tried not to wither under her sharp, analytical look.

"Dom's." She answered finally.

"You've met Dom. We left him at the bar the other night." Han clarified. I nodded in agreement to show I remembered as my heart sped up.

"Where'd you find this one? She looks like an insurance adjuster." There was a teasing edge to her voice that didn't offend.

"Psychologist. I'm a counselor." I offered without thinking. It was my go-to not-a-cop job that I always told guys in clubs. I had gotten my bachelor's degree in psychology to advance my career in the police department and hopefully the FBI when I was on patrol, so it wasn't the worst lie.

"Are you lost?" She laughed.

"Not this time." I looked her dead in the eye. "I'm right where I want to be."


	19. Mama's Broken Heart

I wish I could be just a little less dramatic like a

Kennedy when Camelot went down in flames

Leave it to me to be holdin' the matches

When the fire trucks show up and there's nobody else to blame

Mama's Broken Heart, Miranda Lambert

Z

Leticia "Letty" Ortiz.

Twenty-seven-year-old, five-foot-six Hispanic female. Black hair. Brown eyes. Raised in the Echo Park neighborhood of Los Angelos, California. The street racer with multiple hospital visits for car wrecks in her teens. Girlfriend of Dominic Toretto. Former friend of Brian Spilner. Internationally wanted thief.

Listening to Letty talk to Han about an issue with her Barracuda made my head spin and made me wish I had a drink.

How does one turn off an entire part of themself? Especially the part of themself that they had been relying on for so long.

"What do you drive?" Letty turned to me so suddenly I almost lost my balance.  
"What-Um, Ford Maverick. !971." I recovered quickly, flashing her what I hoped was a convincing smile. Her eyebrows raised, but she didn't say anything. Unable to take the silence, I started blurting out words. "It's new. Well, new to me. I bought it off a meth head in LA. I've got a lot of work to do on it. I haven't really started yet."

"What kind of work?" She asked curiously. A nervous laugh bubbled out of my throat.

"I-I'm not sure yet. Engine-wise, I think I'm solid, but the exterior and the seats need a lot of restoring. My work wife's going to teach me."

"You're going to work on it yourself?" There was a sharpness in her voice that carried a lot of disbelief.

"Yeah. I just have no idea what I'm doing yet." I shrugged. "I'm a quick learner though."

"Wannabe gear head, huh?" She smiled. "You came to the right place."

"Yeah. I think it's about time we get going though." Han's voice cut in.

We'd been at the races for a while, but I wasn't ready to leave yet. I turned around to tell him that when his look stopped me dead in my tracks. I felt the flush run back into my cheeks. His eyes flicked back up to my cleavage and back to my face to leave no question of why we were leaving.

"It was nice meeting you," I told Letty without looking away.

She let out a throaty laugh and started walking away.

"Typical, man. Go back to her place so I don't have to hear anything this time." Her parting words made my face turn bright red and forced me to look away.

"How about it?" He asked.

"Can I drive?" I asked tentatively. His lips pressed together as he considered it. I chewed my bottom lip out of nervous habit when I realized I probably pushed too far.

"Come on." He gestured towards his car with his head.

I felt a little deflated with the no, but I allowed him to lead me through the crowds. When we got close to the Road Runner, he pressed his keys into my hand. I looked at him for some sort of indication that he was unsure about this, but he showed none.

"I guarantee you I'm not going to be used to as much power as you have in this car," I warned him.

He shrugged with a smirk. That motion just oozed confidence.

"We're about to see how easy to impress you actually are." I snorted.

"How much work have you put in?" I asked as I opened up the driver's side door. He shrugged again before settling into the passenger seat.

I slid in, relaxing back into the hot leather seats. Han was a good bit taller than I was, so I had to move the seat up. I glanced over to see if he minded, but his expression remained neutral. I put the keys in the ignition and turned it over. The sound the engine made just radiated power. I took a few deep breaths as I ran my hands over the steering wheel.

"Just don't stall it." He said with a smirk.

I snorted. Brian had made sure my stalling days were over. Without another word, I put it into gear and pulled out. The engine was not what I was expecting; it was a lot more powerful. The Road Runner shot forward at the slightest tap of the gas pedal. He really had put the work in under the hood.

As I shifted to second gear, my confidence grew. The races were rapidly fading away in my rearview. When I shifted third, my heart jumped into my throat as I felt the power of the engine.

The only thing pulling me out of my trance was Han's hand on my thigh. Tonight was going to be fun.

Z

"So the Road Runner?" I asked sleepily against his sweaty, bare shoulder. His hum of a reply reverberated through his chest.

The Road Runner was the most beautiful machine I'd ever driven. It was faster than the little blueberry Brian taught me to shift gears on. It was heavier so it felt a lot less like a toy. I almost didn't want the drive home to end. Almost. I found it difficult to drive home with his hands wandering up my thighs, but he made it worth it the second I pulled into the driveway and put the car in park.

Turns out it's easy to forget you're a cop when you keep your hands and mouth busy.

I had a voice in the back of my head telling me I couldn't get involved with Toretto, but I couldn't bring myself to regret letting him in.

The sheets were half wrapped around us and half-thrown on the floor. The only thing keeping the chill of the ceiling fan from being overwhelming was his radiating body heat. We'd thrown open the door to the patio to let in the salty breeze.

"Do you race it?" I murmured.

His chest rose and fell in a sigh.

"When I'm racing for something I want." He answered after a moment of silence.

"Respect. I'd race for respect." I blurted. I blamed the alcohol. We'd downed a few shots in between rounds in some drinking game that had quickly devolved into just drinking and sex.

"Surely you get some of that?" He questioned. I let out a humorless laugh.

"None at all," I answered without thinking. "I work with a bunch of idiots. They don't think I'm capable of anything."

"What about the work wife?"

"He's the only one," I replied. "He's fucked something up years ago and he's also the black sheep. That's why we get along."

"How bad can you fuck up as a counselor?" Han asked incredulously.

"Think about that for a minute," I replied. I felt the hum of an answer in his chest. "I fucked up too. It's hard to live with, but it happened."

"Is that what caused this extended vacation?"

"Yeah. I mean, how else do you get away? Doesn't everybody run to Mexico?"

"They do in the old Westerns."

His fingers started tracing a slow aimless pattern across my shoulder blade, causing me to shiver. I felt my eyelids growing heavy as I relaxed into his body heat. I was almost asleep when I felt him shift his weight. Annoyed, I looked up to see him looking at the time on my phone.

"Leaving now?" My voice held a little more venom than I meant for it to. Han's lips pressed together in thought before he shook his head and dropped my phone back on the nightstand.

"Nah." He stretched, showing off the toned muscles in his arms and chest. I groaned when his movement jostled me.

"You did promise me breakfast." I poked him in the ribs as a reminder. "I'm ready for bed," I muttered.

"Did I wear you out?" He teased. I laughed.

"I want to play it cool and say no, but we both know the answer."

Without another word, he propped up on one elbow and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. I thought sleep would come to me instantly, but it didn't. I shifted, trying to get comfortable, but it wasn't working. Han hadn't moved in a while, so I was trying to keep my tossing and turning to a minimum.

This whole thing felt a little foreign to me. The last time I shared a bed with someone it had been Brian in the honeymoon suite. Right before I shot somebody and he bled out on top of me.

"What really brings you to Mexico? Besides no extradition." I whispered.

I had been pretty sure Han was already asleep, but the intake in breath told me he was wide awake. I was pushing it; that was a question perfect for the interrogation room, but I really wanted to know.

"Why do you want to know?" His voice was even and measured so I couldn't even gauge what he was thinking.

"Because I want to know that it's not just me," I answered after a long, heavy pause.

I was being reckless again and I was sure it was because my head was swimming with alcohol. If I was going to be not complicit, then I couldn't know anything. I couldn't ask questions. I couldn't hang out with Dominic Toretto and his girlfriend. I also couldn't go around telling my story.

It didn't matter though, he wasn't dumb enough to answer that.

Z

It shouldn't have been a shock to wake up alone.

The sun was streaming through the windows directly onto my pillow making it impossible to stay asleep. It amplified the pounding in my head. The doors leading out to the patio were still cracked, letting in a nice warm salty breeze and the sound of the waves. My stomach flipped at the smell of the ocean. I wanted to shove my head back under my pillow like an ostrich buries its head in the sand, but I knew I had to get up and face the day.

Waking up alone hurt, but what did I expect?

He was a literal criminal and I asked him why he was running to a place with no extradition. I was so stupid. What was it that I wanted? Did I just want confirmation that someone else ran from their problems? To hear someone else had done terrible things that regular society couldn't possibly understand?

Feeling good in Mexico and pretending to be someone else was not going to work. I faced everything life head-on, why couldn't I face this the same way? That was what I needed. To face it and get over it.

I also needed to call Brian. If he didn't hear that I was having the best time of my life then he was going to realize I was losing my mind and he'd probably come get me. Papa Brian coming to get me didn't sound like it was the best thing, but at this point, I would welcome it.

Deciding I needed to deal with my hangover first, I got out of bed. I threw on a tank top and shorts that I grabbed out of the nearest shopping bag and headed to the kitchen. I choked down half a bottle of water and some Tylenol before I started working up the courage to call Brian.

He answered on the last ring. I had kind of been hoping he wouldn't answer at all especially since I knew he was at work today.

"We're making progress on the Braga case." He answered without a greeting.

"Are you?" He snorted.

"Not really. We've got an undercover CI that's agreed to try to get a spot as a driver." He sounded frustrated, a rarity for Brian. Normally the only thing that frustrated him was me.

"That doesn't sound like progress." I put in.

"Considering we haven't been able to find shit, it's better than nothing. " I heard a door shut and the faint noises in the background faded away. "How are you?'

"I had sex. How's Lisa?"

Brian didn't reply for a long time. I started amusing myself by picturing him pinching the bridge of his nose and counting to ten.

"It sounds like you're doing better than the rest of us." He finally answered.

"I don't know. How's Lisa?"

"Bennet's been an ass like you wouldn't believe. I'm surprised she hasn't murdered him with her bare hands yet." Brian's voice trailed off.

I had worried about how much Bennet the FBI agent would remind me of Bennett Ross the murdered. I felt that sick feeling in my gut at the mention of the name, so I knew going back to work was going to suck.

"He's always been a piece of work." I finally choked out. I felt hot and nauseous just talking about him.

"I'm sorry, Beck. I didn't-" I cut off all of Brian's apologies.

"The FBI has already cleared me. Penning said it was a good shooting from the beginning. I know I'm going back. Working for the FBI was all I have ever wanted in my whole entire life. Nothing is going to stop me from going back; not even shooting him. I shot him. He's dead and I did it. I have to get over this. That's all there is to it. You can't just walk on eggshells around me. I'll get over this. I'm fine. I'm halfway there." I insisted.

I felt the wetness start on my cheeks.

"I still feel him, though, when I try to sleep at night. I still feel him bleeding out on top of me. I dream about being strangled. I can't sleep. I can't stop thinking about it." I admitted before I could stop myself.

"Anna-"

The sound of the door closing startled me. I whipped around so quickly I dropped my phone.

Han was standing at the door wearing fresh clothes and a pair of mirrored aviators. He was clutching a grease-stained bag in one hand and a cardboard drink carrier with two coffees in the other.

For the first time since I've met him, he was displaying something other than calm, confident flirty neutrality. Even behind his sunglasses, I could see his raised eyebrows. I could definitely see his slacked jaw.

No one moved. The only thing that broke the silence was Brain's voice coming through the phone in a panic. Knowing he'd call the local police if I didn't do something, I grabbed my phone off the counter.

"I'm fine. I'll call you back." I hung up and tried to stare Han down with cold confidence, which was difficult considering I was crying.

"So. How much did you hear?"


	20. Lies

To hell with the day

The sunlight is only going to take love away

Raise up suspicions and, and alibis

But I can see through tear-blinded eyes

Lies, The Black Keys

Z

"So, how much did you hear?"

Han stared me down for a long moment. The silence between us was suffocating.

"I think I heard all of it." He finally replied.

My heart was pounding in my throat. I had to tell the truth. I couldn't keep up the lie anymore.

A tear slid down my face. My beautiful little beach fantasy was over. That's what normally happened when you told someone you killed people.

"I shot somebody." I finally choked out as the tears really came streaming down my face. I threw up my hands in a dismissive gesture.

Han's jaw clenched so hard I could see the muscles twitch from across the room. I expected him to storm out, but instead, he walked over to the counter and dropped the bag in front of me. He didn't say anything. I kept waiting for him to say something, but he remained silent. The silence was strangling me and all he did was shove a to-go cup of coffee at me.

"You on your way out now, or what?" I said bitterly. Han shrugged and pulled some sort of pastry out of the bag. He bit into it without looking at me.

The silence between us was heavy, but he didn't acknowledge it. Or anything else for that matter. He just kept eating his breakfast like nothing had happened.

"I'm not okay," I said finally.

"Clearly." He replied. I wanted to bristle at the statement, but there was no malice or unkindness in his voice. He wasn't taking a shot at me, just pointing out the obvious.

"You're not even going to ask? Not even one question?" I pushed. He shrugged again as he chewed thoughtfully on his food. He took his time washing it down with a swig of coffee.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked incredulously. He hadn't pulled his sunglasses off, probably because of the hangover, but I could feel the side-eye.

Did I want to talk about it? I had to say something.

"I want to lay on the beach and go on adventures and leave the real world far behind me. That's why I came here." I answered, running a finger under my eye to wipe off the tears.

"It doesn't go away." Han tossed me a napkin. I angrily swiped it under my eyes. I had to stop crying all the time.

"No, it doesn't. The guy was a rich ass trust fund baby with connections that had anger issues. He stalked me and tried to kill me, and some people still think this was my fault. How could someone like him do something like that? It won't be any different when I go home." I exhaled through my teeth.

"So it was self-defense?" His voice sounded so nonchalant.

I cut my eyes over at him. He was still eating like nothing was happening.

"Yeah, but-" But what?

It was self-defense. I was cleared by the higher-ups. And Han had heard all of that. He knew the FBI had cleared it as okay. He knew I was an agent. Or did he? I might be able to lie my way out of this.

"I wasn't the first woman he did this to. Apparently he had a long history of violence. Neighbors would make noise complaints, the cops would find no issues, the woman involved would get a fat stack of cash. He'd gotten bad enough that he was getting some attention though, but with his connections, all of that attention was getting misdirected."

I stopped. That would explain why the FBI was talking to me about the shooting, but I was pretty sure that I had said I was working for them. I didn't think I could lie to him after all.

The only sound in the villa was Han crumpling up the paper that his pastry was wrapped in. This time I didn't feel like breaking the silence. I would have to leave after this. I couldn't have

Toretto's crew knowing I was law enforcement. I could live with this fling with Han fizzling out before my two weeks in Sayulita ended, but if they were cutting ties with me because of a cop, then

I needed to go back to LA and have a conversation with Penning. They didn't have a violent history, but I didn't want them to start with me.

"Is there a pair of handcuffs waiting on you at home?" He finally asked after an eternity.

"What?"

He didn't hear the FBI part! I still had a chance to stay.

"What happens when you go home?"

"I'm afraid my coworkers will have me committed. I mean, I had something super traumatic happen, took two months off of work, and got on a plane to Mexico. Not one part of that screams well-adjusted." Unfortunately, this was not a lie.

He pursed his lips.

"So the police have cleared you? It's an honest to God self-defense shooting?"

"Yeah. He pushed me down a flight of stairs and tried to strangle me. I couldn't remember anything when the FBI questioned me because my concussion was so bad."

"The FBI?" His eyebrows went up under his sunglasses.

He played things close to the chest, but I couldn't see him faking emotion. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Apparently the FBI investigates when you have a bunch of crooked neighborhood cops." I paused, unsure of where to go now. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

He shoved the bag towards me. With another sigh, I pulled out the pastry and bit off a chunk. It ended up being a guava empanada. Despite the nausea from the hangover, I was feeling hungry. I choked the rest of it down and then started chugging my rapidly cooling coffee.

Han said nothing, just stayed leaned over on his elbows on the kitchen counter. His full, small lips stayed pressed together in thought. Nothing about his face gave away any thoughts.

"I don't think you're crazy." He said finally.

"I don't either. I mean, I feel like the world fell out from under me, but that's normal in a trauma." I answered honestly. "The way I'm handling it is probably not the healthiest, but it's also not the worst."

"Are you gonna go back to your job?" He asked. I took in a breath to answer, but then I let it out.

"At one point, I loved it. I was helping people through terrible things. I was trying to fix people that had witnessed their family members die, I was working with victims of domestic violence, rape, car wrecks, violent crime everything you can imagine. I was good at it. But then, I switched to a new agency that had some toxic office politics in a city I hate, and I wasn't rewarding anymore. I don't know what I want right now."

Brian had always told me the secret to undercover work was to have a lot of truth in the lie. When I was talking to Han, I didn't feel like I was lying at all. I knew that could seriously come back to bite me, but I didn't care.

Talking about this left me nervous and exhausted. It was emotionally draining and the last thing I wanted to do, even if it was the thing I needed to do the most. I needed to get these demons off my chest. But I'd do more of that at another time; today I was going to get out of my comfort zone and explore.

"Well, thanks for breakfast. I am going to go take a shower and then I'm going-" I snatched the brochure off the counter. "Surfing."

I frowned as I looked at the glossy picture of an attractive, muscular man holding a surfboard next to an equally attractive woman. Something about that didn't seem so appealing to me at the moment. I flipped it over to the other side.

"Zip Lining. I'm going to do that." I dropped it on the counter and stood up to leave.

"Have you ever zip lined before?" He asked incredulously.

"No, but there's a free tequila tasting afterward." I pointed at the brochure again before I left, not waiting for a reply.

Z

When I got out of the shower, Han wasn't there, but in his was a sticky note with a time for tomorrow morning written on it in neat, precise masculine handwriting. I stared at it with a feeling of mild dread settling in my stomach.

I was in a mess. I didn't want to deal with it. I didn't want to deal with anything.

Ignoring the note and all the possibilities that came with it, I started walking to the travel agency's office to book my ziplining trip. As I crossed through the brightly colored streets of the lively little town, the feeling of dread started to ease a little. Not completely, but a little.

I was used to being alone. I'd always had friends, but I'd always found a certain comfort in being by myself and independent. I hadn't needed anyone in a long time, but Brian had been so firm on the importance of having relationships, I was feeling a lot less confident on my own.

There was a certain vulnerability about being by myself in uncharted territory far from home. On day one, I reveled in it, but now I was starting to feel like I was on shaky ground. I knew this was coming at some point. There was no way that happy relief from day one could stay.

Calling Brian seemed like the only way to fix this at the moment. This time, he answered on the second ring.

"Hey. What was that?" He asked immediately.

"I'm sorry about that. It was nothing. It was just a boy leaving." I lied quickly. "Listen, I know I scared you, but I'm okay. I think I just need time."

"Time will help." He added comfortingly. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. I think I'm a little homesick for people and I think that's why this is a little bit of a rough day."

"Hey, just take it one day at a time. We're waitin for you when you come back."

"Yeah, so about that. I booked two weeks here, and I'm either going to go to a new city or extend my stay here. You got any suggestions? I'm not quite ready to come home yet, but I might be back a little early."

"Miami's nice. It's back in the States, plus I know a few people there I think you'd like." I could hear the smile in his voice and it helped melt that knot in my chest a little bit more.

"It's an expensive city. I'm not sure I can swing it. Money is going to be tight by the time I get home" A street vendor's stand caught my eye and I stopped to look for an apology present for Lisa.

It sounded like she deserved something nice for all the work she was putting in. Lord knows those office jerks didn't appreciate her enough.

"That's the beauty of it. I've got friends there. You can stay with them. My buddy, Tej, he's got this houseboat-" He started.

"Wait, houseboat?" I interrupted.

"Yeah. I used to live there when I was in Miami. Tej was the best!"

"Street racer?"

"Mechanic." He laughed. "Tej was never the best driver."

"That was all you right?" I teased.

"They used to call me Bullet." He sounded so proud, so I tried to contain the snort, but I couldn't help it.

"That's a stupid nickname." I could practically hear the smile fall off his face.

"It is not!"

"Oh, it definitely is, but we'll talk about it later. Listen, I'm going zipline and I'm putting you down as my emergency contact just in case I die." I walked away from the vendor's stand when I didn't

see anything that made me think of Lisa.

"I'm gonna leave your ass down there." He grumbled.

"Good. I've always wanted a Viking funeral. Just chunk my ass out in the ocean and set me on fire." I heard someone yelling in the background before he put his hand over the phone and said something in response.

"Have fun. I've got to go."

"Bye. Get back to work." I hung up before he could fuss at me one last time. Brian always made things better before the incident. I really was stupid for not reaching out to him sooner.

I rounded one last corner and saw the travel agency sitting across the busy street with a crowd already forming.

Well, I thought to myself. Time to try something different.

Z

So it turned out I was the only one not on college spring break going zip lining in the jungle. Ziplining itself was fun. Sailing through the jungle was not something I really thought I would like, but I did. The college spring breakers were enjoying everything around them just a little too much with the help of a few bottles of tequila they had smuggled on the bus. It was both annoying and oddly fascinating at the same time. At the bare minimum, it was at least distracting, which was what I needed at the moment.

When I got back to my villa after zip lining, I immediately went for a run on the beach, showered, went to dinner, and then went to this weird, night yoga on the beach event with some of the much younger college girls I had met on the trip. Yoga wasn't my thing; I only did yoga because Lisa had a crush on the super-hot yoga instructors, but it at least stretched out my tired muscles.

When I got home, I was so tired I fell into a dreamless sleep. No nightmares. No worries. Just sleep. A sleep that was so deep that I forgot about everything, including Han's note on the counter. To say I was surprised when he showed up at the door early the next day was an understatement.

"What are you doing here?" I said without greeting when I answered the door in my pajamas.

"You're not dressed." He replied.

"What am I supposed to be dressed for?" I asked. There was a wariness creeping into my voice that I needed to get into check and I knew I was treating him with suspicion, but it was hard to reign that in. If he minded, he did not show it.

"The beach." He replied like it should have been obvious. Glancing at his light grey swim trunks, white t-shirt, and flip flops it probably should have been. A small smile pulled at his lips. "Look, I know trust is earned. If you aren't up for this, it's fine."

"No," I said before I could stop myself. "No, I'm having a good day. I'll be fine. I only need like, five minutes."

He nodded and I shut the door in his face.

This was how people got murdered, but what was I supposed to do? Sit here in my villa and be scared? I could do that in LA. I had decided that wasn't going to be me when I made this trip, so I was going out.

I had already packed a towel and a set of dry clothes into my beach bag, so all I needed to do was throw on my bikini and some shorts. I was out the door in under 3 minutes. Han didn't seem all that offended and was already waiting in the car with the air conditioning running.

"You sure about this? We're going to a beach that most tourists don't know about, so it's more secluded."

I took a deep breath. If Dominic Torretto was going to have me killed, I didn't see this being the way he would do it. That was just based on his profile in the FBI file, but still; I was going to go with my gut on this one.

"Look, you can let fear lead you, but for what? That's not living."

"Okay." He nodded. I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding when he started backing the car out of the villa's driveway.

He turned away from the city, following the winding coast. As memories of my trip up the California coast with Brian came rushing back, I felt a sense of peace. I was able to relax for the first time in a while.

Also, probably the last time in a while until I was sure he didn't know I was an FBI agent. I could work on getting that information out of him later.

"You know I haven't seen you with a cigarette once." I teased.

"God, I want one." His fingers started drumming on the ball on top of the gear shift. I glanced over to his perfect white teeth digging into his lip.

"Hand and mouth busy, remember?" I teased. His hand was instantly sliding up my thigh.

I reached into my back, grabbed a bag of Cheez its, and tossed it in his lap. The traveling up my thigh stopped as he looked at the snack in surprise before he glanced over at me.

"Well, you can't grope me all the time." A bright smile spread across his face.

There was no way I was not going to fuck this up so badly when the truth came out, but I was going to enjoy it while it lasted.


	21. Blank Space

Nice to meet you, where you been?

I could show you incredible things

Magic, madness, heaven, sin

Saw you there and I thought

Oh my God, look at that face

You look like my next mistake

Blank Space, Taylor Swift

Z

My favorite thing about Han; we didn't need to talk.

My apprehension faded not long into the smooth, sun-drenched drive. I was so relaxed around him that I was cat napping in the passenger seat by the time we pulled up to a beautiful deserted stretch of beach. The shoreline curved and was covered in rocks in a way that created a private little nook. Even if someone was coming, we'd probably be able to hear them before they saw us. With no one anywhere to be seen, we took advantage of the isolated stretch of paradise.

The sweltering heat soaked into my bones and was a welcome relief from the cold office in LA. The longer I laid on the beach staring at the crystal blue waters, the further away that life seemed. Thinking about going back to that controlled, cold sterile grey box was getting harder and harder to do.

Han wasn't helping. He was a beautiful distraction; no judgment or expectation. He made me feel things that Marcus never did and I was going to miss that when this ended. We spent hours laying on a blanket in the sand, drinking beer, and enjoying the breeze. The only thing that ended our perfect day was the crack of thunder in the distance.

I sat up, propping my weight on my elbows with a frown. The wind was picking up, carrying a black cloud with it. It was a long way off, but I could see the beautiful streaks of lightning over the water and I could smell the rain.

Beside me, Han lazily raised his head and rolled over onto his back. He downed the rest of his beer as he stared off into the upcoming thunderstorm. I waited for him to start gathering up our things with some kind of urgency, but he stretched, taking time to flex every muscle in his arms and chest.

"Are we heading out or what?" I finally asked.

"Yeah." He eventually answered before he reached over and poked me gently in the chest. He threw me a lazy smile. "You are just about sunburned anyway."

"Yeah, that's the danger of tanning topless," I answered as I tossed my tank top on over my head and shoved my bikini top into my bag. He shrugged again.

"Were you serious about learning to work on cars?"

"Yeah," I answered as I stood, dusting off the sand. I was tossing everything back in my beach bag when Han finally stood up and started to help.

"You know the Road Runner needs an oil change." He said breezily. Together, we started folding our beach blanket. It was becoming more and more difficult with the wind from the sudden storm.

"You'd teach me?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah." He said liked it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Forgetting the storm for a second, I stopped folding our towels and snuck a look at him. A boyish, mischievous smile was spreading across his face. I felt my own pulling at the corners of my lips.

Thunder boomed again, but this time much closer.

"We have to go," I told him as I grabbed my bag off the group.

"Yep." He replied as he threw the cooler over his shoulder.

We jogged for the car. The wind was throwing my hair into my face. Han laughed at me, but once we reached the car he helped me sweep it out of the way before he opened my door. It took us less than a minute to throw everything in, which was perfect timing because the sun had disappeared behind the clouds. Han threw the car into gear, and for the first time, he really drove.

"Do you melt when you get wet?" I asked him breathlessly.

He took yet another turn aggressively without slowing down at all. The needle of the speedometer kept climbing. I should have been nauseated at that point. Hell, if Brian was driving I probably would have already thrown up out the window, but Han was a smooth driver. His movements were fast, but they were completely controlled. I wasn't even scared when he slid the back end of the car out around turns on the barely paved road. He was a street racer, I already knew that, but he had so much more skill than I was expecting.

"It's because I'm so sweet." He answered.

"Fuck that!" I laughed.

If this was Han's driving, then what was Dom's driving like?

We started out driving towards Sayulita, but then he took a turn off a side road. I felt myself stiffen up in my seat at the sudden change of direction. It didn't help that lightning was streaking down from the sky all around us and I could see the deluge of rain coming from the clouds behind us. Han was outrunning the rain for the second, but that wouldn't last long.

Sure enough, the bottom fell out of the clouds right as he turned down a long driveway right outside the city. He grumbled about having to wash his car the entire time he backed his car into a large garage.

At one time, I was sure this used to be a business, but for the moment it looked closed. The only cars inside were Letty's Barracuda and Toretto's red Chevelle. My stomach dropped the second I saw that red Chevelle. I was not supposed to be here. It was going to be nearly impossible to pretend he didn't exist when we were in his garage.

"So this is your friend's place?" I hoped my voice didn't sound shaky, but my heart rate was entirely too high and I definitely felt nauseous now.

"Yeah. Dom. The one with the red Chevelle." He gestured carelessly towards it. I tried to smile, but I'm sure it came out as more of a grimace. "Why a red Chevelle?"

"Why not a red Chevelle?" I asked in his normal style of answering questions. He didn't look impressed. "My neighbor used to leave his garage door up and work on his red Chevelle when I was growing up. He was a crotchety old fart that was thoroughly convinced that women had no place near cars, but let me hang out with him when things got bad at home."

I bit my lip as soon as the words left my mouth. I was not supposed to tell the truth around him. I was not supposed to open up. This was sex and sex only, damn it.

If it was just sex, then why did I agree to go back to his garage with him to work on cars?

"You ready to get started?" He asked brightly.

"Yeah," I said without thinking.

The summer rainshower had dropped the temperature by several degrees, but I was pretty sure that the second it ended the humidity was going to be unbearable. Han was not one to enjoy being outside of the air conditioner, so I was expecting him to start bitching at any second, but instead, he pulled off his shirt, tossed it onto a workbench and started grabbing tools.

Han was surprisingly a good teacher. He explained it enough for me to understand it, but he didn't do it for me. Marcos had a nasty habit of taking over for me like I wasn't capable. Brian got a little too hen pecky sometimes. He was going to be impressed with I came back from Mexico with a little car knowledge.

I was leaning over the engine when I felt Han's fingertips creep up under the back of my tank top. I was about to pour the oil in when I stopped. I glanced at him to make sure I was doing the right thing. He nodded to give me the go-ahead and his fingers went back to tracing patterns into my lower back. By the time I had poured in the quart of oil, his hand had worked up to the front of my shirt, doing everything he knew I liked.

"Are you trying to start something?" I turned around to face him. Without missing a beat, he stepped up until my thighs were pressed against the nose of the Road Runner.

"Absolutely." He replied.

He leaned down to kiss me, slowly and greedily. I met him halfway. My fingers moved up to grab the back of his neck before tangling in the back of his long hair. His hands tightened on my hips, moving around my back, pulling me flush against his strong chest. It wasn't long before he was grabbing the back of my shirt and ripping it off in one smooth motion. His lips left mine before he worked his way down my neck and chest.

I moved my head to the side to give him better access to my neck and caught a flash of something moving in the rain.

"Oh, shit," I muttered without thinking.

I gently slapped him off of me, before I ducked behind his shoulder, pulling him close to me. He grunted in annoyance before he turned to see what I was looking at and caught sight of the bulky bald man walking into the garage. The man's eyebrows shot up in surprise before a wide, amused smile spread across his face. He shot Han an apologetic look.

"Well, I guess we can officially introduce you to Dom." Han sounded mildly annoyed. I chuckled nervously before I could stop the awkward noise from bubbling out of my throat.

All of the blood in my body was currently rushing to my head.

I tried to think of a moment where I had been more embarrassed in my entire life and I couldn't. Not one moment of adolescent gawkiness or professional failures were as bad as this, even though I felt like they were at the. There was something so much worse about being caught with someone I shouldn't be seeing by someone I really shouldn't be seeing.

I wasn't supposed to be here and I knew it. The universe was doing everything in its power to make sure this was a sign I wouldn't miss.

After what felt lIke a century of silence, Han handed me my tank top. It was slightly better than nothing, even though I didn't have a bra. Han stepped to block any view Dom might have had, but it was completely unnecessary; Dominic Toretto was apparently a gentleman because he turned his back to us and was staring out into the rain.

"Are you just changing the oil?" Dom's voice was a deep, smooth growl.

"Yeah. I think I'm going to-" Han went into a long list of changes he was planning to make on the Road Runner while I tried to get myself together.

I quickly sidestepped away from him, trying to put some distance. When I caught a glimpse of his shirt sitting on the workbench, I grabbed it and tossed it to him. He caught it with a naughty smirk.

"Dom, this is Anna." Han finally gave his friend the go-ahead to turn around as he pulled his shirt back on. When he did, my face reignited in new flames.

"Hi," I answered. I had my arms crossed across my chest, trying to hold everything in. I felt so overwhelmingly exposed.

Well, if I acted weird around him I would at least have an excuse now.

"Hi," He answered. He looked terribly amused by the whole thing.

He also looked just like his old FBI photographs. That shouldn't be a surprise. There were plenty of him to compare the real thing to. They started from his mugshot at twenty, from his time with Brian at twenty-five, and went all the way to grainy surveillance screenshots of him a few months ago in Colombia. Come to think of it, there had also been a grainy, black and white photo of a 1970 Chevelle. I was an idiot.

"I've heard my Chevelle gets your attention." God, even Dom's voice was just saturated in amusement.

"Yeah. I looked for one, but I could never find one." I murmured.

I was trying to act like an adult and not an embarrassed little kid, but I was feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment. I wasn't supposed to be here. I really wasn't supposed to be here and be caught half-naked.

"She wanted to learn how to do a few things around the garage. I figured with our beach day on hold, this was the place to go." Han sounded entirely too smug. I shot him a look that said as much.

"If you can't find the tool you need in this place, then you have no business around a garage." Dom smiled kindly. He raised his arms in a gesture around the garage. His biceps were significantly bigger than I was expecting. His bulky frame absolutely dwarfed me.

He moved towards me and I startled. Dom looked taken aback by my sudden movement. He shot Han a look before he reached into our abandoned beach cooler and pulled out a Corona. There was a look exchanged between them that said they'd talk about it later.

My stomach dropped when I remembered what all Han had overheard. I felt dizzy and I felt my smile get tight. Suddenly realizing I had to do something to be normal, I reached into the cooler and pulled out my own beer. I chugged my first swig so fast I almost choked.

"So this is not how I thought we would meet, if we ever met," I said as soon as I got my beer down. "Not my best first impression. Not my worst either, if we're being totally honest."

Dominic laughed. It was a real genuine laugh. His deep brown eyes lit up when he laughed.

There was only one way to face this, and that was head-on. Han clearly hadn't told him anything, so he didn't know about the murder or the FBI yet. If Han had brought me here to kill me, then it was too late for me anyway. I couldn't fight both of them. That left the option of getting drunk and just rolling with this.

"Well, first impressions don't have to be lasting impressions. We've got time to start over." His smile didn't drop from his face. "Since you're here, how about you stay for supper?"

I have to get back to my villa. I think I left the oven on. I might have forgotten to lock my door.

"I-I think I'd like that."

AN: The song Blank Space could be used for so many chapters. I got so many ideas reading those lyrics. That song will probably pop up again.


	22. Chapter 22

By the time Toretto led us in through the downpour into the tiny house, I was freezing, especially because I had on wet bikini bottoms and a t-shirt. He opened the door for us like a gentleman and pointed me down a hallway towards a closed door that had to be the bathroom with an amused smirk. I was turning to dart down there when I noticed movement from the chair in front of the TV.

It was Letty. She was sprawled in the chair with her feet pulled up under her and her elbows propped on her knees like a child. She had on a grease-stained wife-beater and shorts that looked threadbare and a million years old. Her hair was thrown on top of her head in a clip and it looked like an absolute rats' nest. Her boots were tossed carelessly in front of the TV. The woman was chaos.

"Dom, we might have to back up our timeline. That hurricane's going to be coming right for us in the next few days."

Her words hit me in the gut.

"Shit," I blurted without thinking.

They were here for a job. Of course, they were here for a job. I was so stupid. Why was I so off my game that I had not even thought about that possibility?

Letty's head jerked my direction. Her eyebrows raise in surprise as she looked me over. The corner of her lips twitched as her lips twisted. I was expecting it to turn into a sneer, but instead, it turned into a smile.

"Look who's still around. You still taking a break from insurance sales?" She asked. I glanced from her to the television screen. The handsome weatherman was pointing at an animation of a colorful, swirling blob that was spinning towards the coast.

"I"m clearly not taking a break from my meteorology job," I replied back.

"Weren't you curious about why your swanky villa was so cheap?" She asked, turning back to the TV.

"Yeah, but I was more expecting someone to have strangled a hooker in the bathroom than a hurricane coming straight for us." She snorted.

"You got a fucked up sense of humor for a counselor." She told me.

"All the more reason for me to take a nice long break." She looked back at me and I saw some sort of understanding cross her face.

"You can't stay in your villa with this." She motioned to the swirling blob of purple. I moved closer. She motioned for the arm of the recliner and I gingerly sat on it.

The rapid Spanish the meterologist was speaking didn't make sense to me, but I could tell the path of the storm from the graphics. The boys got tired of watching us and started getting something ready to grill. I was so engrossed in my own thoughts and the weather report, I barely registered them stepping off to the covered porch to light the grill.

They were planning a job, but what was it? They had been hijacking trucks, but Sayulita wasn't the type of town that was going to be getting high dollar shipments. Or was it? There was some money here with some of the big vacation homes, but what was worth stealing?

I hazarded a glance at Letty. She felt my eyes on me immediately. She turned her head and apparently saw my lack of pants for the first time. Her eyebrows shot up.

"We were at the beach." I defended. She snorted.

"Bathroom's back there." She pointed for the closed door.

I picked up my bag and started walking down the hall. The house was small, but clean, which must have been Torreto because I couldn't see Letty being domestic at all. The thought of huge Dominic Toretto pushing a vacuum cleaner entertained me for a second as I shut the door and stripped off my wet bathing suit bottoms and shirt. I heard the door open and Toretto's deep voice talking to Han in hushed tones.

"You need to warn me before you bring your pussy to the house." I heard Letty say. I gritted my teeth at that nickname.

"Sorry. The rain canceled my other plans." Han answered sarcastically. I could picture him shrugging.

"We need to talk about the plan." Toretto's voice was muffled because it was so deep. If my ear hadn't been pressed to the door, I wouldn't have caught a word.

"You're the one that invited her for dinner." Han reminded amicably. I felt a twist in my chest that had no reason being there. "I'll drop her at home after."

"You need to drop Dorothy back off in Kansas. She doesn't have a clue. You need to tell her to go inland" Letty replied.

"She has a lot on her mind." Han defended.

"Is she a cop?" Letty asked.

"She's not a cop." Toretto replied.

"You don't have the best judgement when it comes to cops." Letty spat. I sucked in a breath when I realized they were talking about Brian. I started pulling on my real clothes so they wouldn't realize I had been in the bathroom entirely too long. I didn't know what they'd do to cops after Brian.

The conversation had hit a lull anyway. When I walked out, Letty was tossing plates on the table and Han was opening beers. Toretto was off to the side putting the finishing touches on some chicken with barbeque sauce. No one really acknowledged me as they took their seats at the tiny table. Knowing my place was next to Han, I saw beside him and Letty. Unfortunately Dom was directly across from me.

His dark eyes were different than the pictures in his FBI file. I wasn't prepared for that. They were much more intelligent and deep. I could see the emotion behind them. He looked so much more human. If I was going to call the FBI, I didn't need to see him as human.

"Let's eat some grub, man." Letty broke me out of my thoughts as she tossed an ear of corn on my plate.

"Let's eat." I agreed with a forced smile as I chunked one on Han's plate as well. Toretto was a little more polite when he gently placed the last one on his plate.

"We say grace before meals in this house." He said with a warm.

"It's been a while, but I've done that a time or two." I said brightly. It rung hollow in my own ears, but no one at the table reacted. Han and Letty reached for my hands like I was an old friend.

I don't remember the words of Toretto's prayer to bless the food, I just remember that it was short and sincere and I could barely hear it over the pounding of my heart. I had to turn him in to the FBI. I should do it tonight, before they stole whatever they were planning on stealing.

"Something wrong with the chicken?" Han asked when I wasn't eating. I faked a laughed.

"I'm honestly too tired to be hungry right now." Letty swiped a wing off my plate without asking. I shrugged. If I tried to eat that, I would have puked.

"Han keeping you up?" Letty asked with a grin. Toretto's face lit up in a smile at his girlfriend's jab. He turned and looked at her like she hung the moon in the sky.

"Honestly, I haven't slept that great in a while." I answered honestly.

"Did your one of your patients decide to off themselves?" Letty asked carelessly. I sent her a horrified look and she gave me an apologetic smile.

"No, they decided to stalk me." I answered without thinking.

"Well, Mexico's a good place to get away." Toretto broke what was sure to be an awkward silence.

I felt a supportive hand slide onto my thigh from Han. I glanced at him expecting to see some sort of lust in his expression, since I was apparently his "pussy" while he was in Sayulita, but he kept eating and never looked up.

I slid my hand on top of his. In spite of the situation and all of my thoughts about it, I found the gesture comforting. For the first time in weeks, I didn't feel judged.

"It is. It looks like I'll be cutting my time here short, though."

The the rest of that statement should have been "because i'm going to turn you in", but I couldn't even think that way. The thought of home brought up a lot of anxiety. My chest felt heavy and tight just thinking about going back to LA. What was even there for me? It wasn't peace, that was for sure. Even being the agent that took down Dominic Toretto felt like a hollow victory.

"Mexico City." Han said without warning.

"It's nice this time of year." Toretto replied.

"Everyone should see it at some point." Letty threw in.

"There's a lot more than just that out there." Toretto supplied.

"Cuba's great. The Dominic Republic. Panama City. I've always wanted to see Rio." Letty added. Toretto nodded in agreement.

I felt a smile pulling at my lips despite myself. Han's hand gave my thigh a squeeze.I was being treated more like family than I ever was in my foster families and I'd known these people for a few hours.

"I guess booking somewhere away from the weather is not a bad idea." I replied.

"I'll help you pick a place tomorrow." Han said casually as he picked up the ear of corn I had thrown on his plate.

"How long are you staying here? Or do you live here?" I asked with the same casual tone. Letty and Han's eyes both cut to Toretto.

I was expecting some big coverup answer, but he just looked me dead in the eyes and shrugged.

"I've never enjoyed staying in one place."

"I bet you don't."

Z

There were a few ways to play this. The first was that I could call the FBI now. The pros: Dominic Toretto would be caught before he made another theft, it was a sure-thing arrest because I knew exactly where he was, and I would get a big bump in respect and status, which was something I was seriously lacking at the moment. The cons: Han was sound asleep in my bed and that would look bad, he would also get arrested, I didn't know anything about what they were after, and Brian might never forgive me for bringing down Toretto.

Some of those I could live with. Han and his friends saw me as his "pussy" for the trip, so it wasn't like I was throwing away some long lost love, especially since all I saw him as was sex. What I wasn't sure I could live with, was hurting Brian.

The second option was to keep watching them. The pros: I got to learn more about street racing from the best, I continued to have a warm body next to me, I learned the full extent of Toretto's plan before I called the FBI, and I had time to talk to Brian. The cons: there was now a change in the timeline and I could lose my lead.

Those cons I could for sure live with. I didn't want to ruin my FBI reputation with faulty information and Letty had made it sound like they were coming back after the hurricane. They seemed to be planning to relocate for the time being as well. I knew I had the tracking skills to not lose them. Han didn't suspect anything. If he did, he wouldn't have brought me to Toretto; he was too smart for that.

If I was being honest, there was also a part of me that didn't want this to be over. I'd had almost a week in paradise and it was the best I'd felt since the day I shot Ross. I couldn't go back to staring at the walls as they closed in on me. Not yet.

I'd risk losing the career making arrest before I went back to that.

One thing I knew for sure; I was smart and I could do this. If I played my cards right, I'd have my fun south of the border and then return home to the biggest bump my career had ever seen. Brain would eventually forgive me. I was willing to risk that too.

AN: I've had this 90% written on my computer for forever. I almost scrapped it because of the hurricane heading for Louisiana and Texas that's making landfall now. Be thinking about those areas, because it will be horrible


	23. Heavy

I don't like my mind right now

Stacking up problems that are so unnecessary

Wish that I could slow things down

I wanna let go but there's comfort in the panic

Heavy, Linkin Park

Z

The sun was coming up in a few hours and Han hadn't stirred once since he'd crashed in my bed. I hadn't slept at all. I'd been on the beach thinking.

There was no sense in waffling back and forth between choices; Han wouldn't. I didn't need to study body language at Quantico to see the way Han and Letty gravitated towards him. He always held their full attention. Despite how welcoming they had been to me, I was the outsider and would always be.

I knew that from the very beginning, so why did that hurt? I was supposed to be using Han as a bedwarmer while I got my thoughts back together before I went back home.

Home. My stomach flipped uncomfortably at the thought. It was supposed to be everything I ever wanted. The FBI was the big time and LA was a city with a lot of crime to fight. I should be happy there.

It was hard to be happy when there was no respect and I was the office joke, but that would change with a little time. My association with Brian was starting to be less of a black spot on my career as the office slowly warmed up to him. Who knows? I might even get a hero's welcoming for my first FBI shooting and for taking a murderer off the street. I didn't feel like the hero though.

I definitely wouldn't when I told Brian what I was about to do. I wondered if he might be grateful to have his nemesis off the street, but deep down, I knew there wasn't a chance. Brian held some sort of weird respect for Dominic Toretto. Just like Letty and Han.

There was something about this man that sucked them all in and held them captive and I wasn't sure I could stay away from it if I chose to get closer. It didn't' matter, though. I had to do this. If anyone was heartless enough to resist his charms it was me.

What I wasn't heartless enough to do was to do this behind Brian's back. I had to tell him.

I knew it was ridiculously early morning and he'd be asleep, but I hadn't checked in that day, so I was planning on just leaving a voicemail. I dialed his number and waited for the voicemail message. What I wasn't counting on, was him being awake.

"Hey. Having too much fun?" He answered. Something in his voice sounded bitter. Every once in awhile, it was there. It would creep into his bright words, and cloud over his bright blue eyes. It always happened when he had uninterrupted time to think.

"Hey. I'm sorry. I fell asleep." I made yet another excuse. My stomach felt sour.

Brian chuckled. "You're sleeping? Good. That's good."

Something so very awkward was hanging in the air.

"So, what are you doing up? Chasing tail out at the bar?" I cringed at my own attempt at a joke. Brian didn't even throw me a pity laugh, he just sighed tiredly.

"Ross's lawyer best friend filed to have your name made public." Brian tore the bandaid right off.

"He can't do that! Do you know what that will do to me?" I bit my lip when I realized I was screaming. My heart was running a million miles a minute. "My life is over if he does that to me! I can't go home. I can't go back to work-"

"He can't! Penning denied the request and sealed the file." Brian cut me off before I went into more of a spiral. "Look, I wasn't even supposed to tell you. I just knew with the hurricane you'd be coming back and I didn't want you to come home to a shit storm."

"Coming back?" I muttered as I tried to control my breathing. All of those dark feelings from being trapped in my own apartment came flooding back.

"Yeah. I mean, Sayulita won't be a direct hit, but you're on the beach." Brian sounded like it would be a no brainer. "I mean, you are coming back right?"

"No." I paused. I steeled myself to say 'I'm working a case', but I couldn't. "I'm moving cities. I met some expats here that are helping me book it."

"You're not coming back?"

"I'm happy for the first time in a long time. Let me put it off a little bit longer."

Why? So I can come home a hero? So I could bring Dominic Toretto to justice? What would that do for me if my entire undercover career was blown by an LA lawyer? I didn't want that fame. I didn't want to crunch numbers behind the scenes in a suit like some of the other agents. They'd take me out of the field.

"I hope you know what you're doing." Brian knew. He knew there was something else. I couldn't bring myself to tell him.

"I'm going to get as much out of this trip as I possibly can. Be someone else for a change." I was crying. Why was I crying?

Talk with Brian dissolved into small talk. I knew he knew I wasn't okay, but he didn't push it. I could feel the probing questions and statements, though. He was good. I felt uncertain talking to him like I was about to spill everything, even though I didn't have many secrets to hide from him. Just the one. Dominic Toretto.

The tears had dried up by the time I finished talking to him. I sat there staring at the waves for another half an hour, lost in my own terrible thoughts. I wasn't one to dwell on dark things. My parents had been murdered, I got over it. I bounced around in foster care, I adapted. I lost the man I thought I was going to marry, my home and my friends, I found a new life. The last one took a little time.

Since moving to LA, I felt like the hits kept coming. The hit to my professional reputation and career hurt worse than breaking things off with Marcus ever did. The shooting straight up broke me. I was never going to be the same from that one, but at least it wasn't me that did it; it was the newlywed Mrs. Walker. That was going to be a skeleton in my closet that could be locked up and hidden away from everyone but my FBI superiors. The lawyer friend was threatening to change all of that. I was going to have to deal with that demon every day in every aspect of my life for years thanks to his meddling.

It had been blocked now, but that wasn't a guarantee it would stay that way. If I was going to get some enjoyment out of life, I might as well do it in Mexico, because I was going home to storm cloud of shit.

I stood up so fast I knocked by beach chair over. I started to walk towards home, but I ended up turning back to grab it out of the sand. It felt awkward dragging behind me as I climbed up the dunes. I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to walk through the beach grass like this, but I didn't give a fuck at that moment. I dropped the chair as soon as I got inside the gate of my villa. I didn't slow down until I got to the door.

Han was supposed to be asleep, but his fingers were drumming on my pillow when I came in the back door of the villa. He was sprawled carelessly on his stomach, starfished in the middle of the bed. A phone I had never seen him with before was sitting by his elbow, carelessly tossed on my side of the bed. His lighter was next to his keys on the nightstand and I wondered if he had snuck out to smoke again.

He lazily stretched, taking his time rolling over to face me. I knew I looked like an absolute mess, but his facial expression didn't change. It didn't even change when my eyes between him and the phone.

The job was soon, probably very soon if he was getting calls from Toretto. I was running out of time to make a case or whatever it was I was about to entangle myself with Toretto's crew for. I still wasn't sure, but I didn't care. I was going to make sure I got what I wanted out of this.

Z

The sound of the water running was getting on my nerves. I could hear Han padding around the villa in his bare feet as the tub filled, mostly rummaging through cabinets in the kitchen. I wasn't sure why there was a tub in the bedroom but there was and apparently Han was about to get in it and a large part of me wanted him to go away so I could wallow in my own thoughts until the sun came up.

I was not okay and it was time I admitted that to myself.

The sound of running water finally stopped. The sound of Han's footsteps got louder as he approached the bed. I was thinking about telling him to take his bath and go away when his fingers started tracing patterns across my shoulder. The languid movement of his fingertips was actually comforting. After a few minutes, I felt myself relaxing into it.

"You're shaking." He finally broke the silence.

"I made the mistake of calling home." I finally answered. I wanted to deny it, but I knew that would be stupid. I couldn't lie to him about what he could obviously see.

"Come on." He whispered, gently tugging on my arm. I let him pull me up to a sitting position.

"I have a headache," I muttered. He shrugged with a small smile playing out on his lips.

"This will help."

My resolve to tell him to go away was getting weaker. I let him lead me to the bathtub. He offered me a hand like a gentleman and I stepped in. He climbed in and laid back against the side with a contented smile. I edged myself into the scalding hot water next to him. His big, calloused hands wrapped around my hip as he pulled me back into his chest.

I was so tired I melted instantly. I let him press an icy cold margarita into my hand and took a long gulp. The second the drink was out of his hand, it was moving against my skin, up my legs, across the arch of my hip bone, my stomach, my breasts, my ribs.

Han definitely knew how to spoil a girl staying over for the night. I doubt they were ever much more than that, but they at least got treated like a queen. I was becoming more and more fine with it as the night was going on.

"Why do you want to street race?" He finally broke the silence after I had downed my margarita and most of his.

I snorted. "I can't believe I'm being asked that by a street racer. The ones that do it for a reason other than getting some ass act like it is the one true religion."

"Humor me." He replied dryly.

"I got in a rut with things." I started, completely unsure of how to ever even begin this story. I was surprised I didn't immediately start with 'this one time I stole an LAPD cruiser'. "I ended up getting-getting a chance to drive a friend's Charger. Middle of nowhere. Nothing to worry about."

I chewed my lip as I remembered the feeling of chasing the suspect through the maze of warehouses.

"Driving was the first time in a long time I wasn't anxious or bogged down in bullshit. I just felt so okay and alive and I wanted to feel like that all the time." I paused, knowing I sounded stupid. "I've had friends that used to race and all of them would sell their soul to do it again. I'm just tired of the way things are going and I want a piece of that."

I downed the rest of Han's margarita. It was going to kill my already splitting head, but I didn't care.

"That's the first time I've ever had a girl ask me to teach them how to street race during sex." Han sounded mildly amused. I snorted.

"You mean that's not a common pickup tactic?" I leaned back into his shoulder so I could see his face. All I managed to see was his jawline.

"To get sex. Not during." His hand brushed a stray hair out of my face. I shivered at the intimate contact.

We stayed wrapped up together until the water was getting cold. I stood up to get out first. I was standing outside the tub wrapping a towel around myself when I caught Han's eye. He was thinking. Far harder than I wanted him to be right now.

I was going to have to tell him what happened at home or he was going to ask.

"The family of my stalker wants my name released to them and to the public."

"What happened, Anna?" His voice was even and calm.

I burst into tears.

"I knew he was crazy. I knew it. I started carrying because of him. He was so good at hiding it that other people didn't, though. I didn't like being alone with him. Work wife was trying to keep that from happening, but one day he met me at the top of a flight of stairs in the office and it was just us. I remember him insisting that I go first, but I don't think I did. I was scared of him, so I wouldn't put my back to him. I woke up at the bottom."

Han was standing now, gingerly stepping out and grabbing his own towel. I waved off what was sure to be an awkward attempt at comfort that neither of us wanted.

"He was leaning over me and he was going to strangle me. No one else was there, so I had to shoot him. It was him or me. I had broken ribs, a terrible concussion, split scalp, and a whole bunch of bruises. If I had to fight him without the gun, I would have died." I was reigning in the tears now. Han was looking slightly less uncomfortable.

"My memory is super patchy because of the head injury. Some things are so clear it's like I'm reliving it over and over and some things are fuzzy and dark, and it's so scary. I was ending up places with no idea how I got there." I sat on the bed and took a few deep breaths.

Han shifted his weight to his toes like he couldn't decide if he needed to give me space, or come closer. He finally decided to sit on the bed next to me.

"This isn't something I'm going to get over overnight. It's going to take a lot of work and time. I was having a lot of trouble at home. My choices were sit in LA, which I hate by the way, or get out and live. I chose to live. I chose to quit letting fear lead me." The anxiety was going away. I felt more resolute and calm just saying it out loud.

"You make your choices and you don't look back." Han finally added.

He looked at me with respect. It was something that had been missing from my life for so long. I felt so relieved.

"I'm not letting anything stop me from getting what I want now." The corners of his lips pulled up in a smirk.

"Then I suggest we make sure this hurricane doesn't rain on your parade."


	24. Ghost

I don't like them innocent

I don't want no face fresh

Want them wearing leather

Begging, let me be your taste test

I like the sad eyes, bad guys

Mouth full of white lies

Kiss me in the corridor

But quick to tell me goodbye

Ghost, Halsey

Z

Why the hell was I surprised that he was gone when I woke up?

I'd slept well into the middle of the day after the tequila and a few Tylenol to quell the headache that was blooming behind my eyes. Han laid down next to me in bed as I was falling asleep, but I remember thinking his body language was different than before. Normally when he went to bed, he sunk into the sheets and made himself completely comfortable. There was something stiff about the way he settled in this time.

At least he left a note. It was laying on his pillow a few inches from my face.

I flipped it over expect it to be a goodbye letter, but instead, it had a time and "Mexico City" written on it in Han's handwriting. I'd seen his writing before, and it was relatively neat, but this time it was scrawled, likely done in a hurry.

I felt a sink in my chest, wondering if I lost my chance at Toretto and everything he represented.

I almost didn't want to call Brian, but I did it anyway. I knew if I didn't have an update for him soon he would do something stupid, like come down and get me. I chewed what was left of my bottom lip while I listened to it ring. I was about to hang up when someone answered.

"Hello?" I asked unsurely.

"Anna." Brian's voice answered back. My name sounded clipped and all business. I could hear his fingers flying across the keys of his work computer. Brian was on the hunt.

"What's going on?" I knew the answer.

"There's been a kidnapping." My heart sunk in my chest. I had worked my fair share of those.

"Is the suspected kidnapper known to the child?" I asked.

"No." I breathed out through my teeth. Those were the worst. They were the ones I normally ended up working with.

"I just wanted to let you know I'm going to Mexico City to dodge the worst of the storm. I'm going to let you go so you can get back to work." I said, jumping right to the point.

"I wish you were here, Beck," Brian said earnestly.

"Would Penning let me come back?" I asked. That would honestly be the best thing. Han was probably long gone and I didn't know if I could even make it to Mexico City, but I was going to try. Even without Han, it was on my list of places to go.

"No. Not now. His lawyer buddies are still pissed. They're fighting everything. They said we're making a scapegoat out of a dead man." He sounded distracted.

"Can they really fight that?" I asked.

"I mean, they can, but it's not going to accomplish much of anything. They might get your leave extended. I'm kind of glad you aren't here."

"So Penning is actually going to approve of my trip to Mexico City?" I asked incredulously. He made a noise in the back of his throat.

"Penning was expecting you to visit Portland." Brian started sounding distracted and the tapping of keyboard keys picked up speed.

"I've been there. It's my time to do something new." I told him.

"Do something that's not work for a change. Have you been able to shut that off?"

"Nope. Started looking-" I stopped dead.

"For what? Things to investigate?" The typing stopped. He sounded incredulous.

"Sounds stupid when you say it." He laughed.

"Listen. Go have fun. What would you even do with the information you found? It's not admissible in court and you have no jurisdiction. Go get drunk, hang out with your 'vacay booty call'" He sneered at the words. "and stop thinking about being your cop. You're going to get over your head real quick down there."

"You got the phrase 'vacay booty call' from Lisa didn't you?" I deadpanned.

"Yes, and I hate myself for saying it out loud. Listen, when you come home you're going to have to be at the top of your game. You don't down there. Take advantage of that."

"You're right. When did you get so wise, buddy?" I teased. He snorted again.

"Listen, I have to go. You'd better call me the very second you get to Mexico City."

"Yes, Dad."

"I'm not into that."

"Good to hear it. If I knew otherwise, then it might make work uncomfortable." I thought I heard a muttered 'fuck you'. "I'm not into being mothered either."

"It's me or Lisa." I groaned.

"You know, maybe I am fine with it." He chuckled.

"Yeah, I am the lesser of two evils. Bye, I have to go."

"Bye." I heard a snatch of voices from the office before Brian hung up. They must have gotten a break in the case.

With talking to Brian off my to-do list, I turned my thoughts to the tasks at hand.

What the fuck was I about to do? I didn't know Han. Literally, the only thing I knew about him was he was a member of Toretto's crew and he knew I killed people. My investigation skills were clearly terrible on this trip. I didn't have any excuse for being this distracted. This could easily turn dangerous.

His vague note really didn't mean anything, either. Was he expecting me to meet him in Mexico City or was he going to take me? Did I have a way there without him?

Unsure of what else to do, I called the local airport. Communicating in Spanish sucked, and eventually, the man I was speaking to found someone that spoke English so he didn't have to deal with me butchering his language anymore. It all ended up being a giant waste of time; the flights out were all booked. The woman was nice enough to check the buses for me and those were all booked too.

I was actually stuck.

I flipped on the television and found the weather. The purple blob on the radar had gotten bigger and was spinning closer. The weatherman was looking excited as he made a bunch of wild gestures demonstrating the probable path of the hurricane.

My Spanish sucked, but even I could translate Ciudad de México on the map and could tell the hurricane was obviously turning the other way based on the radar image. They'd get a day or two of rain at the absolute most from this. I needed a way there.

I really needed a car.

That sucked because the only person I could ask about that was currently using his to steal who knew what with Dominic Toretto.

I felt a tightness in my chest. I had to let Toretto go. Brian was right; there was nothing I could gain from stalking Toretto. This would, unfortunately, mean I would have to let go of Han.

Probably for the best; there was no way he was coming back.

Z

I stayed up late packing. For what, I wasn't sure. Every tourist in the city was trying to get out, and I couldn't find a way to Mexico City. There was a super expensive flight to LA, but I couldn't bring myself to actually book it. I'd rather weather out the storm. The owners of the villa had sent workers to board up the windows and the set of french doors leading out to the pool. I'd probably be safe here.

I was too much of an uptight planner for this uncertain, waiting around shit.

I had taken Han's note out with the trash at some point during the day. I couldn't remember what time was on it, but I knew that had come and gone. He had already left town, and I was mad about it.

Not as mad as Brian was going to be when he didn't get that call saying I was in Mexico City.

Unsure of what else to do, I went to sleep and waited for landfall.

Z

I jolted awake. It felt like I'd been in bed for about ten minutes when I heard a noise from the front room. I flipped my phone over; it had only been twenty minutes.

I'd talked to robbers about their decision making a lot over the years. A lot of them told me that they watched the house and waited for the homeowners to go to bed. If that was the case, then they were about to be in for a rough surprise. I was pissed.

The back door out of my bedroom was covered with plywood as were the windows, so there wasn't a way out, but that was fine; I still had the front door. I slid out of bed and picked up the heavy lamp on the nightstand. I would fight my way out of this if I had to.

My heart started hammering in my ears as the adrenaline surged. I heard their footsteps softly move towards the bedroom door. I leaned against the wall next to it, hoping they wouldn't bother to look my direction.

The door creaked open slowly. I tightened my grip on the lamp, ready to swing. The door was pushed the rest of the way open. I took a deep steadying breath as the person walked through it, heading directly for the bed.

The room was pitch black, so I knew they couldn't see me. The problem was, I couldn't see them. I had one shot with this stupid lamp. I was preparing to wack them over the head, but their voice stopped me.

"Anna?"

"Han? What the fuck is wrong with you?" I heard his feet scrape across the floor as he spun around quickly. I could feel him lunge for me in the dark. The movement startled me, and I did the only thing I could think to do; I dropped the lamp and punched him in the face.

Z

"Are you mad?" I asked once the dust had finally settled.

Turns out he was reaching for the light switch.

There was a flurry of activity after my fist hit his face and the lamp shattered on the ground. When the lights came on, there was glass over every square inch of the bedroom and a red spot blooming up on Han's cheekbone. He apologized profusely for scaring me and I sort of apologized for hitting him.

"What the fuck was that?" He frowned as he pressed the washcloth filled with ice to his cheek. "You hit like a boxer."

"I thought you were a robber," I answered as I moved the ice pack off of his cheek to inspect the growing bruise. "What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were long gone."

"You don't seem too torn up about it." He gave me a lopsided smile that slid off when he saw the look on my face.

I had not felt great about knowing he was gone, and I had stewed about it all day. I cared a lot more than I wanted to.

"It's been a day." I finally answered. I felt my lips twist together in an unflattering sneer.

"You couldn't find a flight?" Han asked. I shook my head.

"I need a car." I blurted. He chuckled. "I'm serious."

"What would you do if you had one?" The question was patronizing, but the tone of his voice was anything but.

"I came to Mexico to get out of my life. I thought I was going to have to go back home. I just want to -" What did I want?

"You're running?" He asked.

"You are too." I shot back. His eyebrows shot up. "You know why I'm running. I just want to know what you're running from."

I'd seen so many criminals make excuses and try to deflect or distract, but Han didn't do that. He glanced down to my bag on the floor and then back up at my face. He regarded me with interest, but there was not one trace of fear. He was arrogant; that had been the downfall of many a criminal. It had also been the cause of my own.

"You're not stupid." He told me.

"You're in on something."

"You want in too?" I was trying to decide if it was a question or not.

He shook out the kitchen towel in the sink. The ice clattered, noisily breaking the silence. He took his time folding up the towel and draping it over the handle of the oven.

"You're asking me to leave with you?" I finally said. He nodded.

"Didn't you come here looking for an adventure? You're not going to get it out of tourist guides and vacation towns."

My heart started hammering in my chest.

I felt like he was handing me what I need. I needed an out. I needed to forget about being a cop so I could forget about Ross and maybe get a chance to heal. Brian was right; I wasn't going to get anywhere by staying wrapped up in my FBI agent thoughts. Of all people, he knew what it was like to go through something like this.

"I can't go back to the way things were." I finally answered.

"So come with me. Let's get out of here." Han gestured to the door. My heart was in my throat and I felt the same kind of rush I did when I got behind the wheel of that LA police Charger.

"Let's go."


End file.
